


Mary's Prayer

by KatyaTrixie



Series: perhaps love [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Jealousy, New York City, Religion, Self-Acceptance, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Spellwell - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyaTrixie/pseuds/KatyaTrixie
Summary: Set Pre-Part 1: While on a WICCA field trip, Mary and Zelda find they have many things in common, will that include how they feel about each other?
Relationships: Zelda Spellman & Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Series: perhaps love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822018
Comments: 243
Kudos: 182





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have never shared anything I've written so I'm a bit panicky. 
> 
> Title comes from the song "Mary's Prayer" by Danny Wilson

If Rosalind Walker wasn’t such a good student, if she didn’t try so hard to ingratiate herself with Mary daily, if she didn’t also have so much influence over the other members of WICCA, Mary might just wring her neck. 

Here she was, after hours, preparing to host a meeting of parents regarding the trip to New York to attend a reading of their current book club selection, _Lolita._ Roz caught wind of this reading, and spoke of nothing else until Mary agreed to sponsor the trip. Because Mary so loved her students she would sacrifice her time to increase their knowledge and worldliness, but Mary hated meeting with parents with a fervor. Given that many of these were her former classmates when she attended Baxter High did not soften the blow of having to speak to them in a position of authority, that in fact increased the discomfort. Popular Mary had not been, and the sneers or pity in the glances of these parents, their own small lives here in Greendale notwithstanding, caused Mary much distress.

Increasing her speed after noticing the time, she rounded the corner without looking up from her watch. Nearly colliding with a figure turned away from her, Mary caught herself and stumbled back. For there in front of her, feigning boredom and indifference, smoking a Marlboro gold with her hand pressed against a no smoking sign on the wall, stood Greendale’s resident gothic mortician, Zelda Spellman.

Zelda had never been a contemporary of Mary’s; they had never spoken at a community function or parent teacher event as Hilda normally attended. Mary knew Zelda by reputation only. And, of course, from the stories Sabrina shared about her family.

Opening her mouth to demand Zelda extinguish her cigarette, the command died in Mary’s throat. The redhead bent forward to adjust the ankle strap of her unthinkably perilous heels, her pencil skirt firmly clinging to her curves, then ran a hand along the back seam of her stockings, smoothing and straightening, oblivious to the audience behind her. At approximately the same moment she stood, Zelda’s perfume assaulted Mary’s heightened senses. Finding it sweet yet darkly sensual, she stood breathing in the scent, watching the woman turn slightly in her direction as she blew out a stream of smoke, then pursing her lips around the cigarette for another drag. Roses and amber, mixed with burning embers, Mary decided, a scent that would haunt her dreams.

It was then that Zelda noticed Mary. 

Almost like a wilted flower under the hot sun that was Zelda’s merciless gaze, Mary, wide eyed, blinking rapidly, felt herself drawing inward, her discomfort so evident. Mary was being weighed and measured by Zelda Spellman. She continued to puff on her cigarette, her stare beginning at the curls Mary knew had escaped the tight hairstyle of that morning, eyes moving lower to meet, momentarily, Mary’s blue gaze, then traveling downward to the teacher’s lips. A smile ghosted across Zelda’s face, and Mary felt Zelda’s eyes continue lower on her body, taking in her loose fitting clothing, although, to Mary’s confusion, her stare became rather lustful. It was as though Zelda could clearly see the parts of Mary she tried desperately to conceal. A gasp escaped Mary, unaccustomed to such blatant appraisal. Her hand came to her stomach, and she lowered her eyes, an attempt to tamp down the heat rising in her. When she raised her eyes again, Zelda was standing directly in front of her.

“Apparently, I’m to be a chaperone in New York with _you_ ,” she purred as she waved her cigarette in the air around them. At the very idea of spending extended time with Zelda Spellman, Mary’s heart began to palpitate, and Zelda leaned in next to Mary’s ear, lowered her voice to a husky whisper, “Unless you think I’d be a bad influence …” 

The teacher looked up into Zelda’s unreadable eyes. A not unwelcome glare met her, dilated pupils and a light flush on her cheeks. Heat rising into her face, Mary broke away, moving as quickly as she could towards the faculty restroom, knowing she could not conduct this meeting or face Zelda Spellman in the state she was in. She glanced back and saw that Zelda was now leaning against the wall, lighting a new cigarette, fanning herself.

**********

**A few weeks later…..**

A mimeographed agenda, already ringed with excess coffee from her espresso cup, sat next to her place at the table, a reminder that this was the day of their trip.

She continually glanced at it, noting the departure time, peeking at the cuckoo clock, listening for Sabrina’s footsteps on the stairs.

Zelda’s vintage Louis Vuitton valise, accompanied by a matching vanity case, sat by the front door, her fox stole draped over the top of the pile. 

“Feeling a bit anxious this morning, Zelds?” She looked up to see Hilda’s amused expression as she took a drag from her cigarette, her third of the morning.

Tapping her ash into Hilda’s juice glass, Zelda muttered, “Certainly not, although I would much prefer punctuality to tardiness.”

Hilda smiled to herself as if she knew better, and Sabrina strolled into the kitchen, bleary eyed, and sleepily said, “Morning, Aunties.”

“Sabrina, it’s nearly time to leave, please hurry,” her voice taking on an edge, Zelda stood and began pacing.

“Here, love, let me put that coffee into a travel mug, your aunt Zelda will wear a hole in the linoleum if she keeps this up. Best be on your way,” giving Sabrina a kiss on her temple, Hilda patted Zelda on the back. “Ms. Wardwell’s schedule has you departing at 8, you have plenty of time.”

At Mary’s name, Zelda gave a start, a blush crawling across her cheeks, her heart beating a bit faster. She turned away, placing her espresso cup in the sink.

_I feel like a schoolgirl, what utter foolishness over someone I’ve barely met._

But then Mary Wardwell was different.

**********

A similar mimeographed sheet sat atop another kitchen table beside a well-worn copy of _Lolita_ and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. 

A cooling cup of coffee in her hand, Mary couldn’t decide between two green sweaters, one a pullover, the other a cardigan, so she threw both into her Samsonite, latching it and depositing it by the door.

Removing a manila folder from her oversized purse, Mary studied the accommodations map, carefully rechecking each girl’s placement, assuring herself that she had distributed the chaperones evenly among the student rooms. Seeing Zelda Spellman’s name on the diagram, Mary felt a bit unnerved. 

Their encounter at the parent meeting had stayed in the back of her mind, and now it was forcing its way to the forefront. 

Mary was an oddity in Greendale, and she had known it for a long while, but self-acceptance was quite another thing, more difficult and challenging in its own way. She was on her own road, a journey to own her whole self, to let herself just be who she was. So Zelda was unique to Mary because, for the first time, the unrequited attraction Mary engendered towards another woman was actually something quite the opposite. And Mary had seen it in her eyes that evening in the school hallway.

And that was terrifying.

_Maybe I imagined the entire thing, surely she wasn’t looking at ME that way, we don’t even know each other._

But Zelda Spellman was different.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awkward start to the trip, Zelda and Mary spend an afternoon getting to know each other, touring The Met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking lots of liberties about locations in New York, but this is fiction. :)

Spying the skyscrapers in the distance, Zelda turned to glance at the girls, faces pressed to the windows, oohing and aahing at the sight, Sabrina amongst them.

Mary herself seemed transfixed at the oncoming rush that was the city, a faraway look in her blue gaze, and Zelda took that moment to study her profile. 

_ What an unusual woman, a holdout from another era,  _ she thought as her eye followed the prim hairstyle, one curl having already escaped its confines, to the bare face, save for a bit of mascara and lip balm. Yet those eyes, bright with wonder now, seemed to hold a secret knowledge, something mysterious. 

Feeling Zelda’s eyes upon her, Mary shyly turned from the front seat of the van they rode in to find the woman staring through the glass, the expressway flying past them. 

Mr. Farmer, a parent of one of the members of WICCA had graciously offered to drive them into the city, and the trip had passed in relative silence, save a few giggles escaping from the girls in the back seats. 

Both women had pulled out copies of  _ Lolita _ from their bags, smiling at the coincidence, Zelda had commented on brushing up on it before the reading, Mary nodding in agreement, then settling into quiet.

Another mother was meant to chaperone along with Zelda, and had to cancel at the last minute. Mary was concerned with having to spend so much time individually with the redhead, racking her brain for topics the two may have in common, cursing herself for her wretched shyness that seemed to creep in at the worst moments.

“Is this your first time in New York, Ms. Wardwell?” Zelda bookmarked her page, placing it into her designer handbag, then smiled warmly at Mary, attempting to draw the woman out a bit.

Zelda’s question jarred her a bit, and her heart sped up, so she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let it out slowly.

Turning towards her from the front seat, Mary didn’t meet Zelda’s eyes, her cheeks flushed. “A-Actually, Ms. Spellman,” she lowered her voice and Zelda leaned forward to better hear. “I-I snuck out as a teen to hitchhike to the city.” 

Thoroughly impressed, Zelda asked, “Whatever for?”

Emboldened by the interested gaze on Zelda’s face, Mary continued. “Nothing that exciting. The Philharmonic was performing Tristan und Isolde, my parents didn’t approve, and I was having a particularly rebellious moment.” Mary laughed at the mutinous absurdity of sneaking out to hear a symphony.

Placing her hand on Mary’s arm, Zelda softly laughed, “I can’t imagine a better reason to come to New York in all honesty.”

Mary’s grin crinkled her eyes. “Nor could I. And it was worth the grounding I received when I snuck back in at the crack of dawn.”

“I too have had my adven-” Zelda began.

The van braked suddenly, and Zelda clutched Mary’s arm to prevent a fall. Mary, eyes glancing downward, becoming very aware of the warmth of Zelda’s hand, turned away quickly, but Zelda saw a blush rise on the woman’s cheek. She let go, then settled back for the remainder of the ride, considering how easily affected the other woman was by a simple touch.

**********

While far from extravagant, their hotel was grand in its art deco style, a throwback quite suited to Mary, Zelda thought to herself. 

The girls stood at the window, watching the yellow cabs zip down the street, admiring the skyline in the distance, itching to explore by the comments Zelda picked up on. 

Mary returned to where Zelda was standing, her brow furrowed, looking out of sorts.

“Ms. Wardwell, is there an issue with our accommodations?” 

Mary hesitated, “W-Well, no,” she sighed. “I had arranged for you and I to stay on either side of the girls’ two rooms, and Mrs. Johnson’s cancellation should have left one empty room, but there seems to be some clerical error. Instead of reserving five rooms, they seem to have only put aside three.” 

“Meaning?” Zelda prompted, knowing full well what she was refusing to say. The teacher seemed quite overwhelmed at the mistake, and Zelda felt as if it had to do with her.

“Meaning we, you and I, must, um, share a room,” Mary’s embarrassment could not be any more evident. She stared at Zelda for a moment, sensing a bit of discomfort on Zelda’s part as well. “Perhaps we can split up the girls among the three rooms, with the two of us taking a space with them.”

“Nonsense, we’ll just spoil their fun,” Zelda said, squelching that idea with a wave of her hand. “Unless you are uncomfortable staying with me.”

Pausing a moment to gather herself, Mary took a deep breath before she continued. She felt torn between her obvious attraction to Zelda and having to remain professional on this trip. 

“No, no, not at all,” Mary began to walk towards the girls. “Who knows, we might have some fun ourselves.”

After Mary gave out the room assignments, the meaning of what she had said to Zelda hit her full on and she mentally kicked herself. But, looking at Zelda, the woman seemed amused, and Mary noticed that Zelda smugly smirked as they headed to the elevators.

**********

“And I just told Harvey to have fun with his friends this weekend,” Sabrina was saying as they exited the elevator. “Oh, Auntie, can I call Harvey, just to let him know we’re here?”

Zelda was about to firmly reply in the negative, but Mary intercepted the question, looking into the eight eager pairs of eyes, for a chorus of “Can I call too?” had broken out.

“Now, girls, we’re only here for two nights, surely your beaus can fend for themselves for that long. Long distance calls would take nearly all your spending money as well,” The girls giggled, and conceded her point. She handed out the room keys and divided the girls evenly between the two rooms, hustling them inside to get settled.

Zelda leaned against the wall observing the exchange, admiring how efficiently Mary had handled the girls, kindly but firmly.  _ I could take a few lessons from her _ , she thought, as Sabrina had become more and more difficult to reason with as of late. Sabrina respected Mary, and Zelda could see the reason why.

Turning to unlock the door, Zelda held it open for Mary to enter first as she was carrying an abundance of bags and seemed about to pitch forward. Grabbing her coat before it fell, Zelda tossed on the closest bed, and laid her suitcase on the other.

They went about unpacking in silence, Mary eying Zelda’s classically fashionable attire as she removed each piece from her valise, wishing she had thought to buy something new and sophisticated. 

“I’ll try not to take up too much space in the powder room. My sister tells me I overindulge where beauty products are concerned, but I can’t help myself. One must pamper oneself when necessary.”

Mary glanced through the door, eyes widening as three fourths of the counter space was now covered in glass bottles and jars. She took her Noxzema and Ponds cold cream and shoved them into the corner of the remaining area.

Perching on the edge of her bed, Zelda withdrew the agenda from her purse and read aloud, “Oh, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is our destination this afternoon. How lovely.”

Mary sat across from her and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I couldn’t stay six blocks away and not spend a bit of time perusing the exhibits. I hear they have a huge collection of Degas ballerinas.”

Zelda hummed in response, and they both jumped at a pounding on their door.

“That will be the girls,” Mary opened the door and all eight burst into the room, and Zelda, completely unaccustomed to a slew of teenage energy rolled her eyes and clutched her pearls. The girls spread out everywhere, completely invading their space.

“Ms. Wardwell, let’s go!” 

Gathering her bag and coat, Mary marshalled them towards the door, reminding them to bring coats as the weather could quickly change.

“The museum is six blocks away, does anyone object to walking?” Mary looked in Zelda’s direction as she was wearing stilettos, and Mary unintentionally followed the line of Zelda’s body, starting at the chiffon high neckline of her dress, taking in her curves showcased in the tight-fitting black outfit, down to the pair of vintage leather heels. And, catching Mary’s eye, Zelda was quite aware of the teacher’s appraisal. Mary quickly busied herself with her bag, turning a bright shade of crimson.

“Thank you so very much for your concern, Ms. Wardwell, but rest assured, I can handle the walk.” Zelda draped her coat over her shoulders and followed the group out, Mary behind her.

Standing at the back of the group as they waited for the elevator, Mary dropped her bag, and as she bent forward to retrieve it, Zelda didn’t let the opportunity to survey Mary’s attire pass her by.

Her strikingly sharp jawline led to a graceful, porcelain neck, on display beneath a loose bun at the nape, nearly ebony curls escaping on either side of her face. She wore an oversized sweater that did little to flatter her, but her skirt was above knee length, displaying her toned legs as she bent over. A pair of low heeled booties finished out her outfit.

After pointing the girls in the right direction when they reached the sidewalk, Zelda and Mary took a more leisurely pace, people watching, pointing out fascinating sites, and pausing to window shop.

Zelda could see that Mary always had one eye trained on her students, and it struck her again how important Mary was to Sabrina, another adult in her corner.

“Sabrina thinks the world of you, you know, and I can certainly see why. You’re so dedicated to these girls, and they respect you, that’s obvious.”

Mary scrunched up her face, giving a small smile.

“Well, thank you. I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me. I’m not really anything special though.” 

Observing how Mary soaked up the compliment, only to deflect it, Zelda empathized with the woman. Not ever feeling quite enough herself, the tactic was familiar to Zelda.

But somehow her comment had reassured Mary, and so she relaxed a bit, finding an inroad to conversation with Zelda.

“Sabrina is an excellent student and has real potential as a leader. I can see great things in her future at Baxter High and when she goes on to college.”

At that moment, Sabrina glanced back at the two women and waved, and Zelda felt a tug at her heart, knowing the time that remained to her at Baxter High was rapidly coming to an end. Her mortal friends meant so very much to her, her only real connection to the witch world being her aunts and Ambrose, and those not always being a positive influence. 

How to explain to Mary that Sabrina would not, could not continue her involvement with the mortal world because it would lead to pain and loss, when Zelda herself felt so drawn to this mortal woman walking beside her?

Mary worried her lip as she wondered if she had misspoken.

“Ms. Spellman, have I overstepped in mentioning college? Some families don’t always see the importance of continuing education after high school.” 

“No, it’s not that at all. We have other traditions in our family, another institution of higher learning Sabrina will be attending. You wouldn’t understand.” Zelda sharply shut down that line of conversation quickly.

Their walk turned quiet then, lost in their own thoughts, Mary glancing at Zelda out of the periphery of her vision, sure she had angered the redhead, and Zelda roiling in guilt for having spoken so harshly.

They approached some shops, both women pausing in front of a particularly lavish display of dresses, the window decorated for an elegant winter evening. 

A navy gown caught Mary’s eye, iridescent straps of tulle with a fitted bodice, a satin belt accentuating the waistline leading down into a full tulle skirt, filled out by a crinoline, a bit of beading causing the garment to shimmer in the early afternoon sun. 

“You’d look divine in that gown. It’s perfect for you,” Zelda said kindly as she stood beside Mary.

Mary was shocked at the idea. 

“Oh, n-no, I-I could never…,” Mary shook her head.

“You could, and you should,” Zelda took Mary’s hand and opened the shop door.

“Girls,” Zelda called down the street. “Give us a moment.”

“We’ll go inside this record store, Aunt Zee,” Sabrina exclaimed.

Without giving Mary a moment to back out, Zelda snatched the gown off the rack and directed her towards the fitting room. 

“I’ll be waiting, so do show me how fabulous it looks on you.”

Mary huffed and slid the curtain closed.

Browsing through the dresses, Zelda saw several pairs of beaded slingback pumps. After asking Mary her size, she handed her a pair to slide on with the dress. 

“Now you’ll get the full effect.”

“Thank you ever so much,” Mary’s sarcastic voice rang out over the curtain.

Zelda had to laugh at the exasperated Mary, and had just begun to shuffle through a rack of blouses when she heard a gasp from the salesperson.

Mary had stepped out of the fitting room, stumbling a bit in the shoes, but the transformation was astonishing.

She had taken her hair down and combed out the tangles, and it fell in curls down her back. Her baby blue eyes shining, even more striking with the navy of the gown, she removed her glasses and stared at herself in the full length mirror.

The snug-fitting bodice emphasized her tiny waist, the cut of the neckline accentuated her full breasts, and the hem of the skirt tastefully left enough of her toned legs exposed that the heels flattered beautifully.

“Oh, my,” Mary managed after a minute, her hand to her mouth.

Lustfully, Zelda imagined threading her fingers through that mane of hair, sliding it to the side, and kissing her way along her bare neck, down her shoulder, across that constellation of freckles on Mary’s heaving chest.

“Indeed,” Zelda’s eyes met Mary’s in the mirror, Zelda’s going dark, and Mary remembered that wanton look from the hallway outside the parent meeting so long ago. Her hands shook as she smoothed out the fabric of the skirt, a blush covering her chest.

Mary turned towards the salesperson behind the counter and said, breathlessly, “I’ll take it.” 

She then arranged for the dress and shoes to be brought to their hotel, and they were on their way again.

“Thank you, Ms. Spellman, for I would never have even considered buying that for myself. That dress is dangerous.”

“Well, Ms. Wardwell, sometimes it’s good to live life a little dangerously. And do call me Zelda.”

“Then, Zelda, you shall call me Mary.”

“Mary it is.”

Collecting the girls, they all agreed to lunch at a bistro near the museum, then went their separate ways after entering the multi-level structure, small groups heading in different directions, deciding to meet back in 2 hours.

“Still interested in your Degas?” Zelda asked, and Mary nodded in the affirmative. 

The teacher could hardly contain herself as they entered the small gallery room containing the figures and paintings of the ballerinas. She stood transfixed in front of each piece, studying it from many angles, then moved on to the next, biting her lip in childlike wonder.

Zelda finished her perusal long before Mary, finding a place to sit while Mary completed her journey around the gallery. Soon Mary sought her out, gracefully sliding down the bench next to her.

“Feet giving out already?” Mary teased, and Zelda had to laugh.

“No, I had to find a spot and watch you pirouette from one artwork to the next,” Zelda poked back.

“I did not!” Mary exclaimed. “Did I?”

They both laughed at that, and Zelda thought once again how utterly charming this woman was.

“I always wanted to take ballet as a child. My father thought it was ‘a secular hobby’ to use his words, and that my time would be better spent reading the Bible. He was a Presbyterian minister, and he would have none of this ‘worldly culture’ for his daughter,” Mary smiled wanly as she spoke.

“Yet you rebelled as a teenager, as you told me,” Zelda reminded her.

“Not often, I could never get away with that. He ruled our home with a pretty iron fist, but I read everything I could get my hands on, from world religions to the occult.”

Zelda perked up at that. “The occult, you say? Fascinating. I can relate somewhat to your plight. My father was a renowned figure in our church as well, and I had much more of a rebellious streak than he liked. He did his best to keep me in line though.”

“You started to mention earlier about visiting New York,” Mary prodded.

“Yes, I have a great love for this city. Its beauty and culture are unmatched, even compared to European cities. I’ll always choose New York.”

“Please tell me of your experiences,” Mary asked, moving to the edge of her seat.

“I will sometime, but let’s take advantage of this marvelous place. So much to see, and we have an hour left.”

Side by side, they traveled through as many rooms as they could manage, promising to come back on another trip when they could take their time and see the rest, then met the girls at the museum entrance.

_ Did she really just agree to come back again with me?  _ Mary wondered to herself, completely taken with the idea of a weekend in New York with Zelda. Mary continued to think about how intelligent and worldly Zelda was, knowledgeable on many topics, evidenced by the conversations they had as they strolled through the galleries. She knew tidbits about the artists’ lives, almost like gossip, and seemed to know much about the history of New York as well.

Zelda walked back to the hotel with Sabrina, their heads close together, occasionally Zelda draping her arm around Sabrina’s shoulders as they talked, maternally guiding and directing the girl. Mary observed them from behind, finding yet another facet of Zelda’s personality she found captivating. 

“I’m glad you like Ms. Wardwell, Auntie. I was hoping you two would get along.”

“She’s an interesting woman, for a mortal.”

_ Mary and I could be friends, I think. We have similar backgrounds, interests, and isn’t that what friendship is?  _ Zelda felt very unsure of herself at the moment, having never allowed a mortal to be anything more than a casual dalliance, rarely more than once. The kindred feelings she felt toward Mary were foreign and confusing.  _ Did I promise I’d come back with her? What’s come over me? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading and your nice comments! You're giving me lots of confidence. 
> 
> Here's a link about Mary's dress: [Mary's dress inspiration](https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/158210?searchField=All&sortBy=Relevance&what=Dresses&ft=dresses+norman+norrell&offset=80&rpp=80&pos=102)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Baxter High group meets another school group attending the book reading, and Mary knows the teacher sponsoring their field trip. Zelda, jealousy isn't a good color for you.

Zelda helped shepherd the girls back to their hotel to change, as they were dining with another school group that had come in for the reading the next day. Mary apparently knew the teacher heading up the other bunch of girls, having arranged all this ahead of time.

She stood before the bathroom mirror reapplying her makeup, distracted by her earlier thoughts and Mary herself, who had dressed in a simple black shift, now zipping up some knee length boots and adding a string of pearls to her ensemble.

“Mary, could you possibly…?” Zelda indicated the zipper of her dress, and how she couldn’t quite reach it.

As she stood behind the redhead, Mary gazed at the expanse of alabaster skin, broken only by the band of a lacy black bra, and found herself frozen, heart pounding erratically, certain Zelda could hear it.

Peering back over her shoulder, Zelda perceived Mary’s uneven breathing, and smirked to herself.

“Come now, Mary, I won’t bite,” The teacher’s eyes widened at that, and Zelda went one further. “Unless you want me to.” 

Eyes meeting in the mirror, Zelda winked at Mary and they both dissolved into laughter, until Mary completed the job, zipping Zelda’s dress, running the backs of her fingers along the closure as she did, and Zelda’s breath caught in her throat at the contact.

Mary winked back when their eyes met again.

Zelda grinned at Mary. _I do believe I may have met my match,_ Zelda thought, then unpinned her hair where she’d had it clipped back during the day, and her rose gold locks fell perfectly to frame her face. 

“I see your dress arrived,” Zelda commented, and turned to see Mary examining it through the delivery bag.

Mary was shaking her head, “It’s so very lovely, but heaven knows where I’ll wear it in Greendale.”

“Oh, we’ll find somewhere, that dress was made for you.”

Both women paused at the implication of the “we” in Zelda’s statement, but let it pass.

Checking her watch, Mary picked up her purse from the bed. “Guess we’d better get moving. It’s nearly 6:30 and our reservation is at 7.”

“And if our other girls are anything like my niece, they’ll need some prodding to be punctual. I think you lose all sense of time when puberty hits.”

Mary laughed in agreement. “I’m sure we were the same way, and it drove all the old people around us to distraction.”

“Are you insinuating we’re old, Mary Wardwell?” Zelda laughed, donning her fox stole.

Mary put her hand to her chest in mock distress. “Who, us? Why, I myself spent my day pirouetting around The Met, and you titillated me with stories of Caravaggio and his many male lovers. Does that sound like something elderly women would do?”

“Certainly not, at least not any geriatrics I know.”

Chuckling, they walked out into the hallway and met up with the WICCA group, the excitement of an evening in New York palpable in the air.

Upon entering the eatery, the girls made their own introductions, chatting away, while Zelda stood to the side, Mary embracing the other teacher, their joy upon reuniting evident.

“Zelda,” Mary called to her, and she made her way over.

Standing beside a mousy, somewhat overweight woman in a blazer, button down shirt and wool trousers, Mary was involved in an animated conversation about the latest novel people were talking about, _To Kill a Mockingbird,_ when Zelda approached.

“Barbara, this is Zelda Spellman, her niece is one of my students, “ Mary pointed out Sabrina. “And Zelda graciously agreed to chaperone with me.”

Barbara grabbed Zelda’s not outstretched hand, pumping it up and down, to Zelda’s chagrin. “Nice to meet you, Zelda.” Raising an eyebrow imperiously, Zelda managed a small smile.

Mary continued. “And Zelda, this is Barbara Thornwood, a former student teacher of mine. She now teaches at a large high school in New Jersey.”

Obviously very proud of her success, Mary positively beamed at Barbara, keeping her arm around her shoulders as she continued the introductions.

Making an attempt to join the conversation, Zelda asked, “So Miss Thornwood, do you also sponsor a banned book club, as Mary does?”

“Heavens no, hon, I think we’re a bit more enlightened in New Jersey than Greendale. I’m sure most students at Baxter High haven’t read beyond the required school board approved book list.” She paused to look at Mary for agreement. “These young ladies I brought read _Lolita_ in class, this trip being the reward for tutoring other students.”

“Thank Sat- Heavens for Mary then, for helping our little uncultured town become more worldly. I myself allow my niece to read what she chooses at her leisure.” Zelda said dryly.

“Mary, you didn’t tell me Greendale was inhabited by such forward thinking people nowadays,” Barbara countered.

“To be honest, I’m learning all kinds of new and interesting facts on this journey,” Mary looked pointedly at Zelda, who laughed a bit under her breath.

“Maybe you didn’t spend enough time in Greendale to get to know everyone. I find there are many who think like me.” Zelda argued, although she had no idea why she felt the need to do so.

Looking at Mary in a way that seemed highly inappropriate to Zelda, Barbara shot back, “Oh, I feel I know just the right people in Greendale _very well_.”

Barbara placed her hand on Mary’s lower back, sending a message that Zelda received clearly. Mary’s eyes darted back and forth between the two women, unaware of what was transpiring before her.

“If you two will excuse me, I need to visit the ladies’ room.”

Zelda stepped away, using the excuse to step outside for a cigarette, her first since that morning. She needed a bit of time to herself, a smoking break and a recharge, her socialization batteries drained from the constant interaction to which she was not accustomed, and a moment to gather herself after that exchange.

The Manhattan skyline above her, she stood next to the entrance of the alleyway beside the restaurant, people watching as she blew her smoke into the darkness.

Although annoying and a bit forward, Zelda found Barbara intriguing. She wondered about her mannish clothes, understanding androgyny, even having been drawn to it given the circumstance, though she found nothing in Barbara attractive. Her mannerisms were abrupt, but Mary enjoyed her company, and had certainly seemed to know her well enough, so Zelda would give her the benefit of the doubt.

Finishing her cigarette, Zelda returned inside, finding they were seated in the back of the bustling Italian restaurant, Zelda somehow on the opposite end of the table from Mary and the other teacher. And whether or not Zelda would admit it to herself, the seating arrangement stung after the time she’d spent with Mary earlier. _No matter,_ Zelda thought to herself, itching for another cigarette.

Zelda called over the waiter and ordered a large glass of merlot, chatting a bit with Roz and Susie, who were seated on either side of her, but her attention was focused on Mary and Barbara.

They seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, and occasionally touching each other’s hands. Zelda drained her glass and ordered another.

Their food arrived, everyone began eating and the table grew quiet, save for Mary and Barbara who kept up their lively conversation even as they ate.

Zelda caught tidbits as she tried to keep up with what the girls were saying to her, while eating and drinking her third glass of wine.

Barbara was going on and on about Kennedy, all the things she knew he would change and improve as president, and Mary added something Zelda didn’t catch.

“Ms. Spellman, did you enjoy the museum today?” Rosalind was asking her.

Zelda was annoyed at the interruption of her eavesdropping, but couldn’t for the life of her snap at the child’s endearing face.

“I did enjoy my time, Rosalind. It’s an overwhelming place, but we saw much of it.”

Roz took her time describing the Egyptian antiquities section to Zelda, so she missed the entirety of Mary and Barbara’s conversation after that.

When dessert was served, Zelda sipped her espresso and was about to eat the first bite of her chocolate mousse when she dropped her spoon.

Mary and Barbara were sharing a piece of cheesecake, sitting shoulder to shoulder, using one spoon. Zelda sighed miserably.

“Auntie,” Sabrina reached over Roz and touched her hand. “Andrea and her friends are having a party at her house tomorrow night. Can we go?”

Zelda had been watching Barbara and Mary’s interactions so intently that she almost didn’t catch Sabrina’s question.

“What, Sabrina? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” she could barely keep the annoyance from her voice.

Sabrina followed her aunt’s gaze down the table to where Mary sat. She furrowed her brow in puzzlement.

“I asked if we could go to a party at Andrea’s tomorrow night.”

“Who is Andrea? And how, pray tell, is she entertaining guests that you would be acquainted with in New York?”

“Aunt Zelda, catch up! You met Andrea when we came in, she’s with Ms. Thornwood’s class.”

At that, Zelda glanced up again, Mary looking up at her simultaneously, and smiling. Zelda looked away.

Sabrina huffed and said, “You always get so mad and tell me I don’t listen to you, can we go or not?”

A loud gale of laughter rang out then, one Zelda remembered from earlier in their hotel room, and Zelda stood up suddenly.

“We shall talk about this party some other time, Sabrina. I need some air. Please tell Ms. Wardwell I will meet you back at the hotel.”

“You’re going to walk back by yourself? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Rolling her eyes, Zelda pulled on her coat.

“Thank you for your concern, niece. I’ll be sure to keep my wits about me.”

Dropping some bills on the table, she walked towards the door, trying hard not to glance back.

Barely making it out the door before she lit a cigarette, still feeling the warmth of the wine, Zelda got her bearings and strolled down the quiet street.

_Clearly Mary and this Barbara had been involved, and what did that matter?_ Zelda thought to herself. She had been involved with many people throughout her long life, and had never felt whatever this particular irksome feeling was.

_Am I jealous?_ Zelda laughed at the very thought as she blew out a stream of smoke. Although the sight of Mary being so close to someone else caused her stomach to twist and turn. 

Another thought hit her then. What if Mary was trying to make her jealous?

Mary seemed so guileless, but Zelda didn’t know her well.

Zelda needed something else to drink, to settle her mind, because the cigarette alone wasn’t working.

She had reached the hotel, walked straight to the bar, sitting at the end, away from the other patrons, her back to the doorway.

Ordering a whiskey neat, she observed her surroundings.

Continuing with the art deco theme of the exterior, the bar itself was black marble, gold lighting accenting the mirrors behind.

A grand piano in the corner, smaller booths and strategically placed lamps dotted the room, with two large windows edged in gold, it appeared that Gatsby himself had designed the place.

The whiskey calmed her nerves, and she ordered another, the bartender leaving the bottle near her as he walked away, leaving her to her own thoughts.

Normally Zelda prided herself on her keen ability to compartmentalize, that being her greatest strength. She could take a relationship or leave it most of the time. But Mary was a conundrum. 

_Why did her behavior trouble me so much? Every relationship I’ve ever become involved in was far from monogamous, I can’t imagine I’ve reached the point in my life where I’m ready to “settle down” as they say. Perhaps I’m overtired. That must be the problem._

Zelda’s thoughts a bit more settled, she ran her finger along the edge of her glass, yearning to grab the bottle in front of her and pour another.

“I assure you that John won’t mind if you refill your own glass, though he will expect a larger tip when you leave. Perhaps you’ll let me take care of that though.” 

A smiling voice to her left caused her to lift her eyes, and she met the gaze of a rather attractive man, his hot gaze roaming her body freely.

She took the bottle and filled her glass halfway, and held it up to inquire if he desired her to refresh his drink as well.

Shaking his head, he sat next to her, and she inwardly cringed, preferring her own company still.

“I’m Tom,” he said as he extended his hand. She took it and gave him her name.

“How unusual,” he replied. 

Already tiring of the conversation, wishing he would just go, she rolled her eyes. “Not where I’m from,” then cursed herself for giving him an opening to keep talking.

“And where is that, pretty lady?”

Her gag reflex kicked into overdrive at that, she was relieved when a breeze caused her to shiver. The sound of footfalls on the tile floor caused her to turn her head slightly, observing when Mary entered the hotel lobby. 

The women’s eyes met as Tom reached out to touch Zelda’s hand on the bar, and Mary’s went wide. Zelda jerked her head back to find the man holding her hand in his, and she pulled it away, but Mary had moved on by then.

She heard laughing teenaged voices that disappeared with the arrival of the elevator.

“I must go,” Zelda said as she slid off her barstool abruptly.

“So soon?” Tom made to stand in front, blocking her path. 

_Confound you, mortal,_ and Zelda didn’t know if she meant the horrible man before her or Mary with her wide-eyed shock.

Zelda drained her drink, whispered a spell that briefly incapacitated the man, nonchalantly stepped around him and walked towards the elevator, after leaving the bartender a nice tip. She could not get Mary’s surprised and perhaps wounded face out of her mind.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the worst feeling, in all honesty, being stuck far away from the person you want to spend time with, poor Zelda. So, of course, she had to drink wine and stomp out of the restaurant, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hurt feelings and jealousy make for some awkward moments in the hotel room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a mention of self-harm, blink and you'll miss it, but I wanted to put the warning on here anyway.

Hearing Sabrina’s voice when she exited at their floor, she stuck her head in the door of her niece’s room.

“Don’t stay awake too long. You’ve had a long day today, and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Aunt Zee, you made it back!” Sabrina bounded over to give Zelda a hug.

Zelda shrugged. “Of course I did. What ne’er do well would take me on?”

The girls laughed and Sabrina took her outside.

“Ms. Wardwell was really upset when you left, Auntie.”

“Was she now?” Zelda said noncommittally.“Let me go check on the other room and I’ll let her know I survived my walk back.”

Kissing Sabrina on the forehead, she gave her a gentle shove back into the room and closed the door. She saw to the other girls, reminded them of their early wake up time, and bid them goodnight.

_ So it troubled her when I made my departure? Well, not enough to come after me. Perhaps she made sure I sat so far away so as not to disturb her fun with Barbara.  _ Zelda’s ire rose as her thoughts crashed through her mind.

Zelda put the key in the door, turning the handle quietly.

“Zelda, is that you?” Mary came quickly out of the bathroom, looking as if she wanted to wrap her arms around Zelda, then thinking the better of it, her eyes belying her cool exterior.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Zelda tried to say playfully, but it came out sounding more resentful.

Mary wrinkled her brow at that. “No, only you.” 

She went back to finish brushing her teeth, and Zelda felt uneasy.

Walking to the window, she pushed it open a bit and lit a cigarette.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” she asked Mary when she returned to the room.

Mary shrugged, rifling through her suitcase, pulling out a pair of pajamas.

Watching her, Zelda saw she was clearly confused at the behavior Zelda was exhibiting, looking at her out of the corner of her eyes as she moved, as if she expected to be attacked.  _ I feel like I kicked a puppy,  _ she thought to herself, and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Mary said suddenly, and Zelda realized she had laughed out loud.

Zelda scowled as she waved her cigarette out the window, dropping ash on the carpet. “Nothing that would interest you, I’m sure.”

Mary was silent as she went into the bathroom and closed the door. 

_ This woman is infuriating. And the worst part is not even knowing why she’s suddenly behaving this way,  _ Mary thought to herself.  _ Things seemed to be going so well until dinner and - Barbara. Oh my word. _

_ Something had changed when Barbara entered the picture. Zelda no more wanted anything to do with me, almost running from the restaurant.  _

Feeling very used and embarrassed, for she had shared childhood stories with Zelda, dreams she had for her future as well, Mary felt anger welling up inside her. Zelda had shared tales of her family too, and Mary felt they had bonded somehow. And then to see her in the bar being pawed at by that man! She would give Zelda a chance to explain, and she would listen, but barring some explanation, Mary knew whatever friendship she had felt building with Zelda was not to be. 

_ Why would I think she would want me in the first place? _

Mary quietly opened the bathroom door, briefly glancing at Zelda, then turning away.

Zelda couldn’t look Mary in the face because she had seen tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t bear that, so she lit another cigarette.

Attempting a lighthearted tone, Zelda addressed the window rather than Mary. “The girls want to attend a party tomorrow night, or so Sabrina says. Honestly, you would think they’d get enough of each other tomorrow at the reading, but one of Barbara’s students invited them,” Zelda spat Barbara’s name as if it was poison.

“Hmmm,” Mary answered as she turned down her bed, not looking in Zelda’s direction. Keenly sensing Zelda’s negativity at the mention of Barbara’s name, she vowed again to press further on that topic later. “Did you give them permission to go?”

“No, not exactly. I told them we’d discuss it tomorrow.”

Mary propped up the pillows and opened her book, her eyes still half following Zelda over the top of it as she smoked and paced by the window.

Mary sighed. “If you think it’s a good idea, I suppose Barbara and I could work out how to shuttle them back and forth.”

Zelda’s lip curled around her smoke as she took a drag, “Whatever you decide is fine.” She then grew quiet as she finished her cigarette. 

She could feel Mary’s round eyes on her back as she opened her bag, pulling out her nightgown and robe, kicking off her heels and slamming the door to the bathroom.

Standing in the scalding hot water in the shower, she still seethed with anger. She had spent all that time with Mary, listened to her silly stories of her childhood dreams, what she still wanted to do in her teaching career, and for what? To be tossed aside like some forgotten ragdoll. Well, not now. She would be civil, do what she came to do, and go home.

After preparing herself for bed, Zelda looked at herself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths.  _ So she flirted with that displeasing excuse for a woman, so what?  _

Roughly pulling a brush through her hair, she sighed heavily.

_ Why would I think she would want me in the first place?  _

_ Satan, I wish I’d brought my cat of nine tails. _

Opening the door, she sauntered across the room, threw her robe on the bottom of her bed, and slid under the sheets, tugging her sleep mask into place as Mary was still reading.

Placing her book on the nightstand between their beds, Mary removed her glasses and laid down, extinguishing the light.

“Z-Zelda, a-about tonight….?” Mary began.

“Must we do this now, Mary? I’m tired. It’s been a long day,” Zelda tried to inject some force into her voice, but it broke a bit at the end.

Mary turned away then, “Sleep well.” 

Silently, Zelda faced away from Mary, unsure she'd sleep at all.

**********

As the first rays of dawn hit Mary’s face, she opened her eyes to see that Zelda was turned in her direction, fiery hair spread on her pillow, her face so peaceful in slumber. 

After tossing and turning all night, replaying everything that had occurred the night before again and again, Mary hadn’t slept. And now, looking at Zelda, her heart ached with the loss of something she’d never had.

She glanced again at the sleeping woman, and Mary gazed lower as the curve of Zelda’s breast had been exposed as she slept. Sighing, she licked her suddenly dry lips.

Quietly getting out of the bed, she decided to get dressed, perhaps giving them a moment to talk before they had breakfast downstairs.

She showered, carefully maneuvering among the many beauty products Zelda left all over the tub, and daring to open a few. One particular bottle smelled of roses and dark amber, and Mary was taken back to the first time she met the redhead. The heat of her gaze on Mary’s body brought a warmth to her belly even now as she recalled that moment.

A knock at the door brought her back to the present, and Mary wrapped a towel around herself as she opened it.

Zelda’s sleepy appearance quickly changed as Mary’s undressed body came into view. She took in Mary from her head of damp hair, curling in the humidity of the steamy room to long trim legs, even as Mary tried to hide herself in embarrassment. “Oh, I beg your pardon, please do finish dressing.”

Not missing how her state of undress had affected Zelda, Mary closed the door. “Give me a moment.” 

Having put on her bra and panties, Mary was stepping into her skirt when Zelda knocked again, this time opening the door. Mary covered herself while trying to dress simultaneously.

“Don’t mind me.” Zelda looked away as she reached behind Mary and grabbed her reading glasses out of her cosmetics bag, newspaper in her hand.

Zipping her skirt, Mary reached for the blouse and sweater she’d hung up, not realizing Zelda had forgotten to close the door, and she looked up to see Zelda’s heated gaze on her from the bed, the top of a newspaper flipped down, cigarette smoke curling around her, eyes fixated on Mary’s chest. 

Zelda quickly looked away, and Mary pulled on her clothes in silence, her cheeks burning. 

Eventually completing her reading, Zelda began her preparations for the day, shaking the wrinkles out of her high waisted black slacks and deep plum blouse, and carried the lot into the bathroom, dropping something along the way.

Mary, seeing that Zelda hadn’t noticed, picked up the item, a lacy black pair of panties, and laid them atop Zelda’s pile of clothing.

“You dropped these.” Mary closed her eyes as she turned away, recalling the way Zelda’s lingerie slid through her fingers.

Closing the bathroom door, Zelda leaned against it briefly, panting lightly, still overwhelmed by the site of Mary’s bare chest in her white satin bra. It had been quite some time since she had indulged with a member of the fairer sex, but she never recalled reacting quite this way in the past.

_ Get ahold of yourself,  _ Zelda thought, but she thought she might go up in flames. The image of Mary’s pert breasts was burned into her memory.

Some time later Zelda emerged, desires firmly in hand for now, made up, curls lying perfectly across her shoulders, and Mary stood from her bed where she had been flipping through the newspaper, having finished her preparations as well, her hair in a low bun, face bare save for mascara and pale pink lipstick.

Mary decided to give it another go, thinking perhaps Zelda would be ready to talk before they went downstairs and had to face the others.

“Um, did you enjoy your time in the bar last night?” Mary innocently asked.

Zelda slowly turned from placing her sunglasses into her handbag.

“Excuse me?” Zelda’s gaze was unreadable, and Mary swallowed loudly before she continued.

“I-I saw you with that gentleman, you seemed to fancy him. You were holding his hand.”

“Are you making a joke, Mary? And if so, perhaps you should realize humor is surely not your strong suit.”

Mary’s face contorted in confusion. 

“Oh, oh, um, I misunderstood then. I didn't mean to meddle…”

Turning her back to Mary, Zelda felt her resolve begin to crumble, but Mary’s tremulous voice triggered a sense of bitterness in her, a regret that she had extended herself in getting to know Mary, only to have it thrown back in her face.

As she whipped back around, holding her bag and coat, she refused to meet Mary’s distressed gaze.

“It’s certainly nothing to worry yourself over, or cry over for that matter. People come and people go, and that is a fact I’ve certainly learned over my lifetime.”

Not knowing to react, trying to get hold of her emotions, Mary picked up her things and quickly walked out the door, Zelda following her, five paces behind.

Continuing to regard one another coolly, they made their way down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, the girls already waiting on them.

Sitting on one end of the table, Mary sipped her coffee as she carried on a conversation with Sabrina, who was excitedly relaying how Harvey had called her the night before. 

“Ms. Wardwell,” Sabrina paused her chipper retelling of the conversation.

“Yes, Sabrina?” 

“How do you know when someone has feelings for you, when they really, truly like you?”

Taking a sip of her coffee, Mary felt a wave of despair, and she looked down at the table.

“I’m not sure I’m the best one to answer that question. Maybe you should ask your aunt, after all, you’ve probably had these types of conversations with her already.”

“Okay. Aunt Zelda?” Sabrina got Zelda’s attention and repeated her inquiry.

“Hmm, well, usually a person who cares for you spends an inordinately large amount of time in your presence, being quite attentive, almost to an irritating degree. But, if the feelings are reciprocated, excessive time spent with that person seems to be not nearly enough. A well-suited pair will seek out ways to be in each other’s orbit, to the detriment of other people oftentimes. Why do you ask?”

Mary’s face never left Zelda’s as she spoke, and Mary sighed inwardly, eyes downcast as Sabrina answered.

“I think Harvey is going to ask me to go steady when we go home!” 

All the girls squealed with excitement, and Zelda took that moment to stand, escaping to the lobby to light a cigarette. 

She was checking her bag when Sabrina approached, holding out her copy of  _ Lolita  _ she had left at the table.

“Auntie, did you and Ms. Wardwell have an argument?”

_ Satan preserve me from nosy teenagers,  _ Zelda cringed and took a drag of her cigarette.

“My dear niece, if I did anything right, it was to raise you to keep your nose in your own affairs. Now what’s this I hear about you and the Kinkle boy?”

Zelda knew the one way to throw Sabrina off her trail was to get her talking about herself.

Sabrina’s face lit up like a Solstice tree. “He called me last night to tell me how much he missed me! He also said he had a gift for me, and that he would meet us at school when we get home tomorrow….”

She continued to talk about Harvey, but Zelda’s attention drifted.

Waking during the night, Zelda’s anger had faded into the background, now a simmering vexation, and her attention was drawn to Mary’s pale face, luminous in the moonlight. Zelda longed to go to her, shake her awake and demand an explanation about Barbara, but she lay there, frozen in her bed, staring at that dear face.

“...and I really hope it’s a ring, like his class ring, but I’m not sure if he even has that yet. Oh, Auntie Zee, isn’t it so romantic?”

“Yes, yes, it’s just marvelous,” Zelda’s droll voice rolled past Sabrina. “But he mustn’t defile you until after your Dark Baptism.”

Sabrina put her head in her hands. “Oh, Auntie.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so bad at expressing their feelings. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group attends the reading, and Mary confesses something to Zelda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lots of references to the book Lolita in this chapter, which will still make sense (I hope) even if you've never read the novel.
> 
> There are also religious homophobic references, which I felt like probably shaped Mary tremendously.

The group of girls was making its way through the lobby, for Mary had gone on ahead and asked the doorman to hail them two taxis. Soon they were on their way to the bookstore conducting the event.

Zelda was in one car, Mary in the other, and both had their faces pressed to the window as they drove towards the East Village, their destination. The city was alive, intoxicating, and it drew Zelda in with her memories, and Mary with the potential of things she’d never experienced.

Attempting to put the unpleasantness of the morning aside, for she was deeply upset at what had transpired with Zelda, Mary focused on the reading, something she had been truly looking forward to since she had arranged this journey. 

The bookstore had somehow managed to snag Vladimir Nabokov himself to conduct the short reading and question/answer session, so Mary was sure they’d be in for an unforgettable experience. In discussing the book with the girls herself, Mary had tried to be as frank as possible, without interjecting her own viewpoint about the main characters, the material being quite controversial as banned books are. 

But Mary empathized with the protagonist Humbert in that he desired and searched adamantly for something he could not hope to find, and then, in finding Dolores, he never truly possessed her. Mary hoped that Nabokov would elaborate more on how someone can become fixated on a desire so much so that it destroys one’s life, as Humbert’s was obliterated by his obsession with Lolita.

Even though it horrified her that she would have any compassion at all for someone who would become intimately involved with, for all intents and purposes, a child, Mary’s kinship to Humbert extended well beyond the lines in the book, for she had felt quite adrift for a large portion of her adulthood. Searching for something, someone, a way to feel whole, wanted, desirable. 

Her strict upbringing had driven into her that desiring someone of the same gender was most definitely a sin, one punishable by eternity in the lake of fire, which only served to confuse Mary more. If a loving god created her, didn’t he also create her cravings and longings as well? 

Putting aside the fanciful notion that she’d ever find someone who would fancy her in this way, Mary had tried to live a life that would please her parents and her god, but she had become woefully unhappy, eventually sinking into a deep depression that had eventually driven her fiance away. When her parents passed, Mary decided to live her life on her terms, but she still harbored doubts at the thought of angering the vengeful god she had once served.

Arriving at the bookstore, Zelda and her part of the group were already standing outside the shop. Mary walked inside to check the group in, giving Zelda a sidelong glance as she passed which Zelda pointedly ignored, turning away, her eyes hidden by her dark sunglasses.

After Mary had gone inside, Sabrina noticed that the other group had arrived, and she eagerly pointed out their appearance to the rest of their party. _Barbara’s group,_ Zelda thought sullenly, _that contemptible woman._

Not two minutes passed before Zelda felt a tap on her shoulder, followed by the dulcet tones of a New Jersey accent. 

“Mornin’, Zelda.”

_For Satan’s sake,_ Zelda fumed internally. 

Putting on her best polite smile, Zelda turned around to see Barbara and her students, Sabrina and Rosalind having bounded over to greet the other girls already.

“Hello, Barbara.” Thankful for the height advantage she had over the smaller teacher, Barbara was forced to look upwards and squint into the bright sunlight to speak to Zelda.

“You left so quickly last night, I didn’t have a chance to tell you goodnight.”

Zelda rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. 

“Yes, well, it had been quite a day.”

“Keeping up with teenagers can be quite a challenge, it takes more stamina than people realize,” Barbara’s attempt to sympathize with Zelda was grating on Zelda’s every last nerve, so she was thankful to see Mary motioning to them from the shop door.

“Ah, there’s Mary,” Zelda made a beeline to the door attempting to evade Barbara, but the teacher reached Mary’s side first and pulled her into an embrace. 

Zelda narrowed her eyes, fury again racing through her, Latin phrases drifting through her mind, a spell causing horrific boils to appear on every surface of the skin sat on the tip of her tongue as she bored a hole through Barbara’s dreary brown helmet of hair. But Mary’s defeated appearance caused Zelda to change her mind, deciding to check on the group, making sure they were all present.

Taking note of Zelda’s reaction as Barbara pressed against her, Mary extricated herself as quickly as possible and backed away.

“We can be seated now. Please be respectful girls as there are other patrons inside as well,” Mary made her way to Zelda’s side, handing her a ticket, then distributing the others.

Mary placed herself next to Zelda, but Barbara wound up sitting in the row directly behind them, and Zelda determinedly refused to acknowledge Barbara’s existence as the need to hex the woman grew, even as the teacher leaned up and continued to talk in Mary’s ear.

The reading began, and Zelda bent to retrieve her book, from her bag down at her feet. Mary held up an extra pen, asking silently if Zelda wanted to use it, and as she handed it off, their fingers brushed briefly. Zelda glanced at Mary’s face, at her warm smile, and Zelda made an effort to smile in return.

The author began describing the premise of the book, listing the common misunderstandings, and how he hadn’t intended it to be a primer on pedophilia, which caused a snicker or two from the audience.

Zelda had to chuckle at that, knowing that particular theme in the book had brought Mary great embarrassment to discuss, as Mary had mentioned as they walked around the museum. Mary met her eye and they shared a brief laugh together.

Moments later, intently listening, Mary was scribbling notes in the margins of her book, and moved to rest her chin on her wrist, particularly interested in a point the author was making, catching Zelda’s attention again. 

Out of the periphery of her vision she studied Mary, watching as she nodded to agree, her eyebrows rising as she seemed to consider an argument she previously hadn’t; Zelda found herself enthralled by the degree of Mary’s engagement, unable to look away, even as her own book slid to the floor. 

Rosalind stood to ask a question about Dolores’ manipulation of Humbert, and Zelda observed as Mary beamed with pride. Zelda felt her own moment of pride as Sabrina added on to Rosalind’s question with one of her own, inquiring how Humbert might have stopped himself before taking his obsession so far. They had both had such a hand in molding these girls into strong young women.

And as much as she tried to fight it, Zelda felt so drawn to Mary, physically and mentally attracted to this mild schoolteacher who encapsulated something demure and mysterious simultaneously. She wrestled with her own thoughts, having only experienced carnal feelings for mortals in the past. This seemed to be so much more because it seemed Zelda genuinely cared about harming such an innocent creature, for Mary seemed authentic in her gestures towards Zelda. All this was compounded by the insane jealousy she felt when Barbara ventured near Mary. Zelda felt out of her depth in all of this.

She was caught out in her observation of Mary as the event ended, looking back at Barbara who was staring at her suspiciously. 

Mary leaned over to speak to Zelda, only to be interrupted by Barbara placing a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back a bit to add her own commentary to what they’d heard. 

Zelda had reached her limit with Barbara in that instant, and used the distraction to grab her bag. She mentioned to Sabrina that she was going outside for a cigarette.

Shivering in her coat, for the day had turned cool, Zelda inhaled furiously, wishing the day over, tired of being pulled to and fro by her emotions with no real outlet.

She supposed leaving was an option, but she had run once already. Why let this heinous woman sinking her clutches into Mary run her off again?

The afternoon plan included a trip to the Empire State Building, and she’d be damned if she missed that. No matter how many times she visited New York, she always made sure it was on her agenda. In itself, it represented an era of joy and liberation, speakeasies and bathtub gin, short skirts and so much dancing. So she was overjoyed to discover they were to visit.

Not one to give into fantasy normally, Zelda could however imagine bringing Mary back to the city, a romantic weekend, Mary wearing that dress she’d bought, standing on the observation deck, just the two of them. 

Laughing to herself, Zelda decided being in the city was just bringing out foolish romantic notions as tend to happen. Mary was clearly taken with Barbara, it was as simple as that. 

_I was a fool to think she’d care for me._

A warm hand on her arm interrupted her thoughts, and she turned, somewhat surprised to find Mary at her side.

“It’s freezing out here, Zelda. Do come back inside.”

Mary’s eyes held a warmth and a concern that touched a nerve in Zelda. For as long as she could remember she had been told, and had then internalized, that feelings and emotions were inconsequential. Obedience, honor and subservience were paramount to her father, and this mindset carried over into his role in the Church of Night as High Priest, and then, in turn, in how he raised his oldest daughter.

She was not at all used to anyone worrying over her, caring about her feelings or needs, aside from Hilda, and Hilda’s sympathy often came with too many strings attached, for Zelda often felt smothered by Hilda’s coddling ways.

Zelda found that her eyes had filled with unbidden tears, angering her for being unable to control her own emotions.

“Don’t worry yourself about me.” Her voice quavering a bit, Zelda looked away, taking a drag from her cigarette, teeth beginning to chatter.

Mary, observing Zelda’s pained state, gave her a moment as she stared out at the skyline, Mary’s attention focusing on Zelda’s hands as she twisted her rings.

“B-but I am worried about you. May I have a cigarette?”

Zelda held out the pack and her lighter.

Mary tapped the package against her hand, removed one, and lit it, putting it to her mouth and inhaling deeply.

Zelda watched as Mary’s pale lips closed around the cigarette, the faint lines around her mouth becoming more prominent. She imagined what it would be like to kiss those lips. 

“I’ve sent Barbara on her way.” Mary said after a moment.

“Won’t you be lonely without her hovering over you?” Zelda commented, a slight edge to her voice, stomping her feet as they grew cold.

“It’s not Barbara I want,” Mary said, looking at Zelda tenderly. “I’m not interested in her.”

“Oh, no?” Zelda looked at Mary out of the corner of her eye.

“No, not at all.” Mary said firmly, enjoying one last puff on her cigarette.

Zelda continued to stare straight ahead.

The door opened behind them and their girls spilled out on the sidewalk, headed their way.

“Can we talk about this later?” Mary asked quietly.

Zelda let out a breath, “I suppose.”

Both women dropped their cigarettes and stamped them out, heading again to their separate cars, Mary sadly looking back at Zelda before she closed the taxi door.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit heavy, but I felt like I couldn't let the subject matter of this book and its parallels to little Mary pass by.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their time at the Empire State Building gives Mary and Zelda a quiet moment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, the news of CAOS being cancelled hit me hard. It's almost like someone ripped away my security blanket in the midst of so much uncertainty in the world. I really considered scrapping this story, but I can't do that. I love these characters, and even after the show is long gone their influence will stay. 
> 
> CAOS has been, to me, a way of being seen and represented as a gay person, an empowerment as a woman because it consists of such strong female lead characters, and a rich, dynamic tapestry that we can contain to weave into stories, art, video edits, etc long after Netflix decides it has outlived its usefulness.

The ride back seemed too long for Mary, for she longed to talk to Zelda, to straighten out what had gone wrong between them, and show the redhead how she felt about her.

“Aunt Zee,” Sabrina slid over next to Zelda in the taxi. “Did you and Ms. Wardwell come to a decision about the party?”

Twisting her rings, Zelda never looked at Sabrina as she answered.

“No, Sabrina, I can’t allow you to travel that distance for a party. We’re leaving in the morning.”

Sabrina moaned, “Awww, now we’re just stuck at the hotel tonight.”

“Let me finish. You and your friends may order room service, my treat. Just keep the noise down and stay in your rooms.”

Reaching to hug Zelda, Sabrina seemed appeased by the idea, and with the other three girls began planning how they would spend their evening.

The group shared a quiet lunch at a small café near the Empire State Building, Mary and Zelda sitting at a table alone, while Sabrina shared the news about their evening plans.

“So, you’ve told them they’re not driving to New Jersey tonight, I take it,” Mary murmured, not quite sure what to make of a silent Zelda now.

Zelda nodded. “I told them it was too far.”

“And now no more dealings with Barbara as well.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“S-so that leaves you and me with no plans then, Zelda.” Mary stated, looking down at her hands, her heart pounding.

“I have a new novel I bought at the shop today. Perhaps a quiet night of reading.”

After a long pause, Mary bit her lip, feeling perhaps in her desire to be kind to Barbara she had pushed Zelda away, fearful that it may be too late for the two of them.

“Would you be interested in a drink in the hotel bar? Some quiet spot so we can talk?”

“I...may be amiable to that. Let’s just play it by ear, Mary.”

Realizing that even Zelda’s conditional agreement was progress, Mary let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and relaxed a bit.

They finished their meal in relative silence, each of them sneaking glances at the other, Zelda somewhat wary of her emotions just running under the surface, and Mary afraid she would spook Zelda completely if she pushed any further.

Feeling flustered, Zelda dropped her napkin on the floor, and both she and Mary reached for it at the same time, and after Zelda retrieved it, Mary traced her fingers over the back of Zelda’s pale hand, giving her fingertips a gentle squeeze.

When Zelda didn’t pull away, Mary closed her eyes, inwardly overjoyed.

“Are you ready to leave?” Zelda asked as she tugged their tour tickets from her bag. Mary nodded, and Zelda couldn’t help but grin at her eagerness. 

Entering the lobby, everyone, save Zelda, was struck by the ornate decorations and floor to ceiling marble interior. Even Sabrina’s mouth was agape, Zelda placing her arm around the girl as she pointed out the landmark wall display above the information desk.

“Come, girls,” Mary called as they boarded an escalator to the next floor, where an exhibit described in photographs how quickly the historic milestone was put up in competition with its sister tower, the Chrysler building. In her element, Mary had to read each descriptor that accompanied the photos, ever the historian. 

Soon they were ready to board the elevators for the observation deck, the girls all removing their cameras from their bags in preparation.

Holding on tightly to the railings as they made their ascent, Mary’s fear got the better of her as they neared the 50th story, and she grabbed Zelda’s hand. 

“It’s alright, Mary,” Zelda leaned over to whisper. “We’re almost there.”

The doors dinged as they opened at the 86th floor, and several of the girls emerged to board the next elevator for the 102nd floor, but Mary and Zelda stayed put.

Floor to ceiling windows foreshadowed the view on the outer deck, and Mary stood a moment to get her bearings.

“I remember the Eiffel Tower affecting me just this same way. It’s overwhelming, and then you hate to leave the view behind,” Zelda reminisced, her gaze set on the horizon.

“One day I’d love to see Paris,” Mary said, still leaning a bit on Zelda.

“Perhaps you shall. Everyone should have their moment in Paris, preferably with a lover.” 

Suddenly shy, Mary backed away a bit, but not before her eyes drifted down to Zelda’s lips.

They walked through the glass doors, pulling their coats more tightly around themselves as the cold wind blew their hair away from their faces.

Unable to resist, Mary walked to the edge, looking down through the iron work to the city below. 

“Oh, Zelda, oh my…” her voice drifted off as she took it all in, her mouth as agape as Sabrina’s had been in the lobby.

Zelda slipped on her sunglasses, and moved to the ledge next to Mary, looking out at various landmarks as she located them. 

Mary wanted to walk around the deck, taking in the view from every angle, but Zelda stayed put, content to smoke and relax a moment.

By the way Mary had put such comfort in taking Zelda’s hand, and stroking it in the restaurant, Zelda hoped Mary meant what she said about Barbara. 

Zelda also knew a primarily physical relationship with this pure, almost prudish woman would not suffice, because Zelda felt something beyond what she could gain sexually from Mary. And it seemed Mary reciprocated her feelings.

Old doubts resurfaced as she actually contemplated what a relationship with Mary would mean. 

_ She’s a mortal, the Dark Lord will never accept it. _

_ What about your family, you owe them everything, they depend on you. _

_ She’ll never understand you, in fact she’ll run in terror when she finds out who you really are. _

_ No one will ever love you.  _

Willing these dark thoughts away, Zelda looked up at Mary as she approached her again, taking out her camera, one of her favorite mortal inventions. To freeze someone, even for a moment, and have a piece of them to take away was far better than any spell to Zelda.

Mary moved down towards the sunset, and as she turned the wind caught a curl from her hair and it sailed free as Mary looked directly at Zelda as if they were the only ones for miles. The sky paled in comparison to Mary’s blue sparkling eyes, and Zelda swore she’d never seen anyone as beautiful, and she snapped the picture.

Zelda’s mind was racing as she returned the camera to her bag, so many things she wanted to say all competing to be spoken first.

“Mary,…” Zelda paused.

“Yes, Zelda?” Mary saw the anxiety cross Zelda’s normally unaffected face, and she made for the nearest bench, taking Zelda by the elbow.

“Let’s have that drink later,” Zelda managed to say, and the pleasure Mary seemed to feel from Zelda’s gesture was palpable.

Just then the girls burst out onto the deck, interrupting the moment and regaling them with their experience of having travelled to the highest point in the city. Their jubilance was contagious, as was the feeling of relief the two women seemed to share, for something had shifted between them, both of them sensing it.

The sun had begun to set, and the temperature was rapidly dropping, so they decided to go back to the hotel.

In the cramped elevator again, standing at the back, Zelda stood close to Mary, not minding a bit being pressed against the teacher. Mary, however, seemed very affected by their close proximity, her eyes closing as Zelda took her hand when the elevator began its descent, her cool fingers settling Mary’s nerves.

The ride ended too soon for the two women, Mary moving away quickly as the door opened, for she didn’t want the girls to see anything or ask any questions. After all, Mary would settle for a collegial friendship with Zelda at this point.

After their last taxi ride in New York, the girls raced upstairs, ready to have their party. Zelda helped them order what they wanted from room service, reminding them to use “ladylike manners and aplomb” as all eight of them piled into one room, their laughter carrying into the hallway.

Finally alone, the silence hung a heavy cloud between them. 

While Zelda leaned into the mirror to touch up her crimson lipstick, Mary took a moment to freshen up, her anxiety causing her heart to flutter. She removed her glasses and brushed out her hair, starting to pin it back into her prim hairstyle, when Zelda spoke up, her voice rather low.

“Could you...leave it down?”

Mary jerked at Zelda’s voice, her nerves having her on edge, and dropped her brush in the process. Moving to scoop it up from the carpet, Zelda asked for permission, needing to soothe Mary’s obvious fear, and knowing this simple gesture would calm her as well.

“May I?” She held up the brush.

Not trusting her voice, Mary nodded and stood stark still, waiting for the first stroke like a weapon blast, so Zelda laid a hand on her shoulder first.

Gently, the first drops of rain in a summer storm, Zelda brought the brush through Mary’s dark locks, a calming balm. Like a frightened colt, Mary’s eyes widened, but somewhat relaxed as Zelda continued pulling through the tangles. 

A sound escaped Mary’s lips much like a whimper, the woman seeming genuinely stunned she was capable of producing it.

“Your hair is truly beautiful, Mary,” Zelda cooed, the scent of her shampoo and the essence that was Mary wafting around her, the strands falling through her fingers like raven silk.

“Mmmm, it’s too much, it’s always been so much to handle. But it’s kind of you to say.”

Laying the brush down, Zelda surveyed the woman beside her, cheeks aflame and eyes bright, and Zelda was unsure if it was longing or timidity.

“Mary, all I desire is to be kind to you. And I think I’m ready for that nightcap now, if you’re still agreeable to that idea.”

“I am,” Mary’s face had relaxed into a serene smile. “Lead the way.”

  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have their conversation almost written, so I'll post soon. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary's explanation moves their relationship in a new direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of religious homophobia.

They entered the somewhat boisterous bar, settling themselves in an out of the way booth in a quieter corner of the room, where the plush velvet cushioned seats made for more intimate conversations.

“What would you like, Mary?” Zelda made to walk to the bar, dropping her handbag next to the booth.

“I think I’ll have a Cosmopolitan. Something sweet sounds delicious.”

"That sounds very fitting. I'll get one as well. When in Rome, as they say."

Leaning down to remove her cigarettes, Zelda lit one, then lit another off the tip, handing it to Mary. 

“Be right back,” Zelda said, and Mary watched her approach the bar, several men’s eyes following her as well. It amused Mary as Zelda completely ignored them, brushing them aside, her eyes on Mary as she breezed back to their table. 

It was as if everyone else in the room had disappeared for a moment, a bubble in time that belonged only to them. And Mary couldn’t take her eyes off Zelda, like a sailor drawn to a siren’s call. 

They settled in, sipping their drinks as if they had all the time in the world, absorbing the warmth of one another’s company.

This struck Mary, the idea of limited time, how this moment was all she’d ever wanted, all she’d desired for as long as she could remember, and she found it ironic now that she couldn’t now form the words she’d wanted to say.

She blew the smoke out of the corner of her mouth after she’d inhaled, the nicotine leveling out her thoughts, Zelda sitting in anticipation across from her, waiting for Mary to begin, to explain, to set all this right.

“Zelda, do you know what loneliness feels like? When it settles in your bones, invading every free minute of your day, like a burden you can never put down?”

Zelda thought of a thousand million nights, sitting by the fire with a tumbler of whiskey her only companion aside from her own dark meanderings of  _ Why am I this way?  _ and  _ Why does everyone leave me? _

“Yes, Mary, I am familiar with loneliness.”

“Then when I tell you that most things I’ve done in my life were to alleviate that loneliness, if only for a short time, you’ll understand.”

Zelda only nodded, handing Mary the candied orange peel from her cocktail, Mary having already eaten hers, and Zelda had noticed how she relished it.

That small gesture, a simple kindness really, almost was Mary’s undoing, for she felt seen in that moment, but she drew in her breath and finished her drink for courage.

“Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning.” she cleared her throat, and at the last minute decided to order another refreshment, stalling for time, so great was her fear of rejection.

So it was Zelda’s turn to watch Mary, this brilliant woman who lived her life trapped inside herself, fearful, timid; she walked to the bar, so oblivious to the stares that followed her as well.

And when she turned to walk back to their table, she fixed Zelda with those cerulean eyes of hers, a shy smile gracing her lips, and upon reaching the table she lit another cigarette.

“I thought we might want something a little more conducive to sipping slowly while we talk.”

She handed Zelda a crystal tumbler of whiskey, the amber liquid quite the right choice for this moment.

“Right, so where was I?”

“You were starting at the beginning,” Zelda chuckled, taking Mary’s hand. “Go ahead, you have my full attention.”

Mary dropped her head so that her curtain of hair fell forward, hiding her face. She began, her hand still in Zelda’s and she held on as she spoke.

“For most of my life I’ve tried to do the right thing; I went to church, I became a teacher because my father deemed it a “righteous” choice for a woman, I even read my Bible daily, read and read again those passages that name what I am as a sin. But no matter how hard I prayed, the desire remained...” her voice drifted off, and she put her cigarette to her lips, inhaling deeply.

“The desire for what, Mary?” Zelda brought her back, knowing what she meant, but somehow needing to hear it.

“I’ve known for a long time that I was…”

Zelda’s heart was so moved for this woman, this dear pained creature who couldn’t even say the word to express her feelings. And that fact alone had to be debilitating, because, as a teacher and a lover of the written word itself, she had the very thing she held dear desert her, and Zelda could see she was crumbling.

“Mary, it’s quite alright, you don’t have to say it, but just know, nothing you feel, nothing you say, nothing makes you dirty or wrong. It’s perfectly natural to feel the way you do.”

“I had a fiance once, did you know that, Zelda?” Mary blurted, as if she suddenly remembered him.

Zelda shook her head, the cigarette in her fingers burning down, she tapped the ash into the ashtray on the table.

“He-we, I, he was very kind, but I-I wasn’t interested in him like that. And he was patient, but finally he reached the limit of his endurance.” Mary looked up at Zelda finally, her eyes shining with tears. She removed her hand from Zelda’s and wiped at them, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

“Please don’t feel like you have to divulge anything you feel uncomfortable about.”

“No, I need you to understand where Barbara fit into all this.”

Mary took her first drink from her tumbler, made a pained face at the burn in her throat, and tapped off her cigarette.

“When I finally decided I wanted to live truly as who I am, Barbara came into my life. She had been assigned as a student teacher to another teacher in my department, and they had a personality conflict, which I know comes as a shock to you.”

Laughing at that, Zelda was glad to see that Mary had regained her composure, so she sat back and took her glass, curious as to what had drawn the two of them together. 

“You see, I knew no other woman who could possibly feel as I did. Barbara was clearly not interested in men, and I did not find her completely unappealing. Barbara was full of life, and she embraced her sexuality. She never once seemed embarrassed about it, once she got to know me outside of school.”

“And so, you two became an item, so to speak?”

“Well, if you can call sitting on my couch and reading books about sapphic love to each other an item, then I suppose we were,” Mary grinned at that.

Zelda nodded, and although she could not imagine even that sort of intimacy with the likes of Barbara, she had been with many women society wouldn’t consider traditionally beautiful or feminine.

“But Barbara perceived it as something more, and when she finished her time at Baxter High she asked me to go with her.”

Zelda’s eyebrows rose at that, and she finished her whiskey, wanting more but not wanting to ask Mary to pause in her story, so she settled on lighting up another cigarette, wrapping her crimson lips around the filtered end, and narrowing her eyes again at the suggestion that Mary might have even considered leaving with Barbara.

“Of course I said no,” Mary continued. “I didn’t have those sort of feelings for her. What she did for me was confirm the fact that I preferred women over men, and at the time, she filled a void in my life. A void that had felt like a gaping chasm for so very long.”

“Mary, I would never judge you for your choices, I want you to know that. Although I don’t find Barbara attractive in the least,” Zelda paused, and they both shared a chuckle at that. “You are a teacher in a small town, a conservative, rural small town, at that, and she was your only option, or so it seemed.”

“Yes, exactly. At the time, she was my only alternative. But, when she moved away, I’d assumed her feelings had faded. On the contrary, absence made her heart grow fonder. She romanticized what little time we had spent together. And seeing her the other night, I should have realized that.”

Mary looked down again, her voice barely audible.

“I’m so very sorry, Zelda. I wanted to explain all this to you, help make you understand, but I didn’t know how.” 

Guilt washed over Zelda, a terrible sorrow for how callously she had treated Mary, and she swallowed the self-loathing that followed with a need for distance, to get away and have a second to herself.

Mary could see Zelda’s conflicted emotions wash over her face, and from what she knew of Zelda, a bit of a break might be what the redhead needed.

Laying her hand atop Zelda’s for a moment, she said. “I’m going to go check on the girls. I won’t be long.”

Zelda decided to refresh their drinks, and her mind was on all Mary had said as she neared the bar once again.

_ Mary opened her heart to me, she bared her soul. I owe her a little honesty. But what if she leaves, what if I can’t explain myself? _

Her doubts flooding her mind, Zelda’s brows knitted together, and she tried to brush off her feelings with a look of indifference, but Mary wasn’t fooled as she sat down at the table again. Zelda’s eyes were full of the guilt she felt, coupled with fear, and Mary guessed that Zelda was terrified that her words would not be well received.

“Mary, yesterday, when we were in our room, if I took what I said too far…”  _ You have every right to despise me,  _ Zelda thought as she dug her fingernails into her palm, the pain alleviating a bit of the agony she was feeling.

Mary sighed almost imperceptibly, agreeing with Zelda’s words, but reaching for Zelda’s hand just the same.

“I know I did. I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry,” she apologized, internally promising she’d do her best to never hurt Mary again, accepting the ready comfort Mary offered by gripping her hand. 

“Zelda, I forgive you, it was all a misunderstanding. But please talk to me, please tell me when something troubles you.”

“I-I will try,” Zelda promised, thinking at the same time  _ I don’t even understand my own feelings, so how can I expect I can help you understand them. _

And Zelda knew that someday she would try to explain her own journey to Mary, as best she could, and that Mary would listen, and somehow the need to punish herself, or numb the hurt felt unnecessary in this moment, for what Zelda felt now was hope.

They finished the last of their drinks, Mary feeling a bit woozy at the amount of alcohol they had imbibed, for her normal limit was a glass of wine.

“Now, the girls are fine. We’re sufficiently intoxicated and warm, how about a short walk to see the lights of the city?” Mary suggested.

“That sounds marvelous. And Mary?”

“Yes, my dear Zelda?” 

Zelda’s heart soared at the endearment.

“Thank you for sharing yourself with me. It takes so much courage to be true to yourself, I only wish I had half your bravery.”

“You make it easy, Zelda.”  _ Now if you’d only give yourself the same grace _ , Mary thought.

Retrieving their coats, they slipped back out the front door into the bitter cold night air, the lights of the city glowing around them. 

Strolling slowly, hands in their pockets, both of them not wishing this time to come to an end, for reality would come crashing down on them soon, so they revelled in these stolen moments.

Mary was struck once again at Zelda’s easy grace, her green eyes reflected in the moonlight, and was distracted by her lips, the distinct color so striking against her fair skin.

Zelda could feel Mary’s eyes, and she stopped walking.

They drew closer, and as Zelda reached to push a lock of Mary’s hair behind her ear, Mary closed her eyes at the anticipation of Zelda’s light touch.

“Oh, your hands are like ice!” Mary jolted as Zelda’s fingers glided over her ear. “Let’s go back to the room.”

Zelda took Mary’s arm and they turned towards the hotel.

Mary’s tongue a bit loosened from the alcohol, she decided to ask a question for she felt a bit bold.

“About the man in the bar last night,” she looked up at Zelda.

Zelda groaned at the mention of him, feeling a bit intoxicated by the flame of jealousy that seemed to burn in Mary at the sight of her with someone else.

“Men tend to approach me in that way. It’s highly annoying, especially when one wants to be alone.”

“Of course they do, look at you, Zelda. They were certainly trying to get your attention tonight as well.”

Zelda decided not to mention how those same men had leered at Mary too.

“Were they?” Zelda said with a slight laugh. “I didn’t notice. I was very distracted by a certain woman with captivating blue eyes.”

“When I see her I’ll tell her you’re looking for her,” Mary sarcastically shot back.

They burst out laughing together as they entered the lobby and went upstairs, still arm in arm.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for your comments. I love creating this little world with these characters just for me, and it thrills me that you seem to like it as well. CAOS has been a great adventure, and fanfic takes it to the next level. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they finally aren't jealous or angsty (too much), and enjoy some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all again for being so kind in your comments. I've enjoyed writing this so much.

All the comfort they felt between themselves from the first day seemed to have returned, a slide back to square one it seemed. All not being forgotten, but another layer of connection now having been forged between them.

They removed their coats and sat side by side on Mary’s bed.

The silence that hung between them in this moment was light, the moment the sun emerged from behind a cloud and warmed the earth below.

Mary reached out to caress Zelda’s smooth skin, two fingers stroking her cheekbone and down to her chin, tracing her thumb along her full lower lip, and Zelda sat stone still and let Mary explore, enjoying this intimacy, this moment. She could sense how skittish Mary felt, how Mary was concerned about Zelda’s expectations now.

“Mary,” she carefully covered Mary’s outstretched hand with her own. “This can be whatever you want it to be. We can take all the time you need, I want you to be sure of that.”

Taking Zelda’s hand in hers, Mary brought it to her mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist, taking in the scent of her perfume, the scent that was uniquely Zelda. And Zelda brought Mary’s hand to her lips, gently pressing them against the back, looking at Mary as she did so, and Mary’s eyes closed, her lashes fluttering on her cheeks.

“What do you want this to be, Zelda?” Mary said breathlessly.

“I-I’m not certain how to...,” Zelda was taken aback by the request, unsure. “No one has ever asked me that.”

Overwhelmed by empathy for the woman before her at the knowledge that her needs had never been addressed, had never been acknowledged, Mary bit her lip and gazed at Zelda over her glasses.

“Don’t pity me,” Zelda said with a bit of a bite, turning away at Mary’s wide eyes and sudden tears. “I can’t bear any sympathy for how I’ve chosen to live, the people I’ve had in my life up til now, for I’ve given as good as I’ve gotten in my past.”

Mary wanted to reach out to Zelda again, but hesitated, so she settled for a hand to Zelda’s back, and to her surprise, Zelda leaned into it, relaxing her stiff posture after a moment.

“I’m asking you, because I want to know, because I’m so unsure of myself right now, and because you deserve it. I want what we have to be just as much your choice as it is mine.”

Drawing a jagged breath, Zelda continued to be wonderfully surprised by this woman who had heretofore never experienced romantic love, and yet she had more insight into others than anyone Zelda had ever known.

“Yes, well…” she tried to say. “Right now I’d like to get into something more comfortable, and perhaps have another drink.” 

So they went about their routines, and prepared themselves for bed, Zelda with her book and whiskey she had sent up from the bar, her reading glasses propped on the bridge of her nose, and Mary who went to stretch out on her own bed.

“Mary,” Zelda looked at her, and patted the bed beside her.

Keeping her robe on, Mary sat on the bed next to Zelda, eventually settling in up against the headboard, reading her own book.

“You don’t have to sit so very far away. It’s rather chilly in here.”

Utterly terrified, but Mary would not give in to her anxiety, willing herself to indulge in the closeness Zelda was offering, for she craved it as much as she feared it.

She allowed their shoulders to touch first, apprehensively, and as she adjusted to it, she slid her hip next to Zelda, then her thigh, until she simply sank into Zelda’s side, her spine still a somewhat taut bow in case she needed to make a quick escape. 

And Zelda, for her part, let her arm rest lightly across Mary’s thigh, not carefully measured as if in possessiveness, but enough pressure to remind Mary she wanted this, needed this.

Soon Mary removed her glasses and, laying them on the bed, rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“So, what did you think of the reading today? You haven’t mentioned it, and I noticed your copy of  _ Lolita  _ was already full of notes before the event began, so what was your impression of the author’s take on the book?”

Laying her book aside, Zelda took a drink from her glass before she answered.

“You know, I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t at all what I heard.”

Mary let out a laugh at that, rumbling through Zelda, a comfort and a question.

“He certainly didn’t have any intent of explaining his whys and wherefores a bit, did he?”

Moving down in the bed, Mary lay perpendicular to Zelda, bent at the elbows, rested her face on her hand to stare at Zelda before she answered, those clear blue eyes taking her in. 

“He most certainly did not, but he seemed to surprise you occasionally as well.”

“If Nabokov’s main purpose was generating empathy for the characters as he said, I suppose he accomplished his mission, although the subject matter is still disturbing. It was easy to feel compassion for such brokenness.”

Taking Mary’s hand, she laced their fingers together. “And I, myself, felt such empathy for Dolores, even though she manipulated Humbert in the end. It felt like reparation for all he’d done to her, does that make sense?”

“Don’t we all feel that way at one point or another in our lives when we’ve been wronged? Some of us go that route, we take the pain inflicted on us and find another weaker victim to abuse somehow, the way Dolores did. Or, we find a way to be a better version of ourselves from that pain. We help others find their way because we know the struggle. I think that’s why we are put to the test, to make us better.” 

Her face shining with sincerity, Mary continued.

“I would venture to say I’ve become better, I’ve let my difficulties smooth out my rough edges as it were. And I’d say you have as well, Zelda.”

“Mary, you are a rare creature, you see the good in others, you see what they could be instead of what they are now, and not even necessarily what you would want them to be. You accept people as they are. And, as for me, I wish I merited your praise.”

“But look, you run a successful business, and you deal with people at the worst point in their lives; you offer them comfort and make that process easier.”

“Hilda does the comforting, I don’t deal well with the grieving.”

“You’re raising a teenager, and she’s turning out to be a wonderful girl.”

“That’s also thanks to Hilda, and you really. She doesn’t much need me anymore.”

Mary sat up and took Zelda’s hands, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of them.

“Zelda, you need to give yourself more credit.”

“At the risk of sounding morose, Mary, you don’t know what I’ve done in the past, the people I’ve hurt, the choices I’ve made.”

“Does it sound cliché then for me to say that I honestly don’t care? You see me for who I am, fearful, timid, afraid to speak my mind, and that doesn’t deter you in the least. And I see you, Zelda Spellman, and I can’t think of anything you’d tell me that would frighten me or send me away.”

_ Oh, I can think of many things,  _ Zelda thought to herself.

Zelda fought against herself, for three hundred years of living had taught her many things about dealing with her own emotions. Feelings were safely had when alone, with a whip or a razor blade, or when so numbed from alcohol or some other nerve desensitizer that dreams are their only escape. Only in dreams emotions exploded into technicolor and had arms and legs.

So she stood, avoiding Mary and her prodding, for it was too much.

Moving to the window, she cracked it open and pulled her cigarettes from the pocket of her robe.

“Would you like one?” She offered the pack first to Mary, observing that Mary hadn’t moved from the bed, her posture sunk back to defeat. And Zelda regretted that, hated she engendered any remorse in Mary. But she wasn’t able to share in all this, for spoken emotions always led to consequences, better to bury them all away.

Mary silently accepted the gesture, and they stood with a smoky wall between them. 

It was at that moment that Mary determined to break down every brick Zelda stacked as she built her emotional walls, for however long it took to do so. Mary knew walls weren’t built over one slight, and weren’t brought down by one declaration of trust. She would show Zelda she cared for her, and give her reason to trust. Perhaps it may take a million small gestures, tiny measures, but Zelda seemed worth the effort, even if she didn’t think so herself.

They smoked on in a comfortable silence, each giving the other space.

Eventually fatigue won out, the nicotine easing them both down to their beds.

Mary turned away from Zelda’s eyes at first, but could not find a comfortable position, tossing and turning, her mind still racing, her guilt for pushing Zelda weighing heavily on her. She sighed loudly as she flopped onto her back.

“Mary,” Zelda quietly whispered when a few moments had passed, not quite sure the other woman had given herself to sleep, for she had heard Mary’s movements.

Twisting in her bed, Mary turned in Zelda’s direction, surprised to see her bright eyes in the darkness.

“When I can’t sleep, reading often helps me. Come back over here and I’ll read to you,” Lifting the blankets, Zelda indicated the spot next to her. “If you’d like.”

Mary knew sleep wasn’t coming any time soon with her mind racing as it was. Zelda’s warm presence seemed so inviting, so she chose not to resist.

The faint light burning on the nightstand, Zelda began to read as soon as Mary had curled into her side, her free hand stroking Mary’s hair. Mary’s arm was draped over her, her fingers gently rubbing the silk of Zelda’s nightgown. And soon that steady voice had Mary’s eyes heavy, unaware that she was still held in Zelda’s arms. 

And it was this way that she awoke, having slept so deeply all night. 

She was facing the window, watching the sun rise over the rooftops, Zelda’s arm lying over her, and Mary felt at peace.

Turning around, she watched the colors of the morning light Zelda’s face, set her hair afire, and she leaned up, running her fingers through tousled red hair. Finally her lips met Zelda’s, a breath of a kiss, hardly a touch at all.

Zelda’s eyes opened at that, and their lips met again, more urgent this time, Mary’s hand sliding deeper into Zelda’s hair, pulling her closer, Zelda’s hand sliding up and down Mary’s back.

Separating, their faces inches apart, panting a bit, smiling as if they woke this way everyday.

“Well, good morning, Ms. Wardwell,” Zelda smiled, her voice still crackling with sleep. 

Mary blushed at that, and Zelda found her so endearing in her bashful passion, her lips reddened, lashes fluttering, her hand still stroking Zelda’s hair.

“I-I hope that wasn’t too much; I don’t really know what came over me. You were just lying there, so beautiful, and I couldn’t resist.”

Zelda kissed Mary quiet, and held her, fingers running through the tangles in her hair, and Mary sighed in pleasure.

They remained together, Mary pressed into Zelda’s side, hands entangled in each other’s hair, savoring the simple feeling of how their bodies felt, allowing themselves this, until Mary glanced over at the clock.

“Can we just stay like this, Zelda?” Mary sighed.

Zelda chuckled at that, and pressed her lips to Mary’s forehead, lightly peppering her face with kisses until she reached her lips, pressing hers to Mary’s now swollen ones, until Mary parted her lips, and the kiss deepened.

Zelda backed away after a few moments, and Mary’s face showed her disappointment at this.

"We're in no rush, Mary, let's take our time. Your students will be waiting on us soon." 

After rising from the bed, Mary gathering her things to get ready for the day, Zelda remembered their promise from the museum.

“You know, Ms. Wardwell, I may be able to get away in a few weeks. We still have half a museum to see, and perhaps,” Zelda paused, trying to gauge Mary’s reaction. “We might find an appropriate place for you to wear that dress.”

And Mary remembered their promise as well, and didn’t even look up, her eyes twinkling, “Perhaps, Ms. Spellman, I can fit you in on my dance card. And who knows,” Mary grinned as their eyes met. “what I might wear.”

“Why, Mary, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me,” 

“Well then, Zelda, perhaps you shouldn’t know any better,” Mary said with a wink as she stepped into the bathroom to get dressed.

Soon they were back in the van, Mary next to Zelda instead of the front seat, talking constantly, and laughed over nothing.

Their hands rested on the seat between them, fingers sliding over to touch the other’s hand.

And all too quickly the ride ended, every girl having been picked up, Sabrina running to Harvey as soon as the van came to a stop in the school parking lot.

Zelda walked Mary to her car, carefully carrying her new dress over her arm, her other around Mary’s waist.

“Come to dinner tomorrow night,” Mary said eagerly as they were placing her belongings in her car. And Zelda nodded, knowing it would be difficult to be apart now. 

Mary made to get into her car, and Zelda took her hand. 

“Zelda, I..well, this time together...it was…”

Taking her face in her hands, Zelda gently kissed Mary until she pulled Mary's hips to her, drawing them closer. They stayed this way, their lips meeting over and over until they drew back for air, foreheads resting on each other’s.

“I know, Mary, I know,” Zelda kissed Mary’s cheek once more and stepped away. “Drive safely and I will see you tomorrow evening.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who would've imagined Zelda such a soft romantic? She's always so concerned about how she appears to everyone else, I just wanted someone to tell her she's worthwhile and successful, and then maybe go about doing all they can to try to make her believe that. Mary taps into the sweetness in Zelda.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little sisterly conversation, and a little introspection on Zelda's part.

Zelda made her way to where her suitcase stood on the sidewalk outside the school, then, looking around to ensure she was unobserved, she transported home, appearing in the entryway as Hilda was coming down the stairs.

“Zelds, welcome home!” she said as she turned to look at her sister, noting her smudged lipstick and flushed cheeks curiously.

Zelda merely nodded in Hilda’s direction, her lips quirked in a half smile.

“I was about to put the kettle on, would you like a cup of tea?” 

“Hell below, sister, give me a few moments to gather myself before you interrogate me on the goings on of my weekend,” She snapped, causing Hilda to sigh in resignation.

But then Zelda added, “I’ll be back down in a bit, keep the water warm for me.”

Although Zelda would have preferred the quiet of a glass of whiskey, some peace to decompress from what had been a roller coaster of emotion, she also knew her sister would appreciate a few minutes of her time. 

Catching her own reflection, the condition of her lipstick caused her to close her eyes, her fingers to her lips, remembering Mary’s eagerness as she pulled the redhead to her body.

Hanging her dress in the closet, she saw a black silk gown that was once a particular favorite when she frequented New York decades before. She slipped it on, thinking to ask Hilda to shorten the hem a bit, modernizing it to make it a bit more fashionable.  _ Just the thing to wear for a weekend in New York,  _ she thought.

Hurrying as she thought of Hilda waiting at the table, she dropped her silk nightgown over her shoulders and pulled on her embroidered robe.

The mug still warm in her hands, Zelda received an update on three new bodies in their mortuary, victims of a car accident in Riverdale. Ambrose, ever the industrious one, had devised a new way to receive the bodies using some sort of conveyor belt that he was anxious for Zelda to see.

She paid attention to Hilda as she concluded her description with a tale of mixing up coffee orders at her carny vampire’s bookstore, but when Hilda began to question her weekend, she lit a cigarette, staring beyond the table to the greenhouse where a particularly blue hyacinth was just blooming.

_ Mary’s eyes are just that color,  _ Zelda thought, and she knew she was in uncharted territory.  _ Whatever do the mortals call this? Infatuation?  _ She couldn’t quite place this giddy feeling that imbued her.

“And so Dr. Cee threw me on the counter, ripped off my clothes, and…”

Zelda started, her attention jerking back to the conversation. “Wha...what? In the store?” 

“Knew that would bring you right on back. You were staring into space, so wistful and dreamy,” Hilda’s laughter caused Zelda to roll her eyes, blowing a puff of smoke towards her teasing face.

“Aren’t you the clever one?” Zelda sneered. “It was a long weekend, and I’m a bit tired. Herding eight teenage girls isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“But you had Ms. Wardwell there to help you with that job, that surely lightened the load.”

“Yes, well, certainly she did,” and she went quiet, smoking and blowing on her tea before she drank it.

“She’s a nice one, and always takes up so much time with Sabrina. How did you two get on?” Hilda rested her eager face on her hands, cocking her head to the side as she asked the question.

“Fine, fine, I am capable of spending an extended period of time with a mortal just as you are.”

“Extended time, heh? Wasn’t it just the museum and the reading?”

“We did explore the museum together, yes, and of course I sat with her at the reading…”

“And?....”

Huffing her frustration, Zelda answered quickly, “Due to some mix up at the hotel, we shared our accommodations.”

Hilda’s mouth fell open at that, “Hells bells, Zelda! What a detail to leave out! I know how you are about your personal space, and then to have to share it with a stranger.”

“Sister, you make me out to be a veritable hermit. We made due, quite well I might add.”

“Oh, yeah? So you like her now?”

“I hardly know enough to form an opinion. She seems...personable,” Zelda lowered her eyes. “Hilda, why must you always need a label for everything?”

“I don’t know,” Hilda rose to put her mug in the sink. “It just keeps things tidy, knowing who you’re on the ins and the outs with. I like a scorecard, I reckon.”

Zelda had to chuckle at that, knowing her relationships with others baffled Hilda, for she kept people at arm’s length so often that kindly mentions of anyone must have been a shock.

“So I can put Mary Wardwell in the ‘ins’ column, then?”

“If my relationship with Ms. Wardwell amuses you so much, then believe what you will. Perhaps it’s time I was more involved in Sabrina’s education. After all, she will be leaving Baxter High soon enough. Spending time with Mary will precipitate a smooth transition, and won’t that be beneficial for all parties?”

“Whatever you want to call what you do in your personal life is up to you, Zelds.”

Zelda sighed and placed her mug in the sink, brushing past Hilda.

“I’m going to read in bed until I hear Sabrina come in. Unless, of course, you have more questions you’d like me to answer.”

Hilda leaned against the sink and smiled to herself.

“No, Zelda, you’ve answered all of my questions quite informatively.”

After closing herself up in their shared bedroom, Zelda reached for the novel she’d stashed on the bedside table, only to lay her hand on the Satanic Bible. Running her fingers over the pentagram on the cover, she realized she hadn’t read any scripture in over a week and supposed she was due.

Her eyes settled on a well underlined verse, one she had taken to heart since she could speak and understand, one she’d heard since her first Black Mass, she whispered it aloud without looking at the text.  _ You shall have no other gods before me. _

Zelda knew this verse also existed in the False god’s Bible. She had seen it on the stone tablets representing the Ten Commandments outside the Courthouse in Greendale. It was framed on the wall in the Greendale Bank, a reminder of loving money too much. Some bold soul had even driven a sign with this verse painted on it in the dirt in front of their Desecrated Church. It was in their Bible, however, as a very real, physical vestige of how a member of the Church of Night was to conduct themselves.

Faustus Blackwood had taken the church back to the old ways in his tenure as High Priest, enacting serious measures for those who happened to be caught breaking this commandment, excommunication being the primary punishment. And Zelda knew that witch hunters were always on the lookout for witches without the protection of a coven.

So she kept herself and her family walking down the middle of the Path of Night. Except Ambrose, who had been implicated in a plot to blow up the Vatican. And Sabrina, whose mortal side tended toward the light more often than not. And Hilda who would no sooner hex someone than frown at them.

_ I must keep them safe, for Satan knows they can’t do it themselves,  _ she thought.

Yet now, here was Mary.

Even while reading the Dark Lord’s book did her heart stray to thoughts of Mary. She knew this was dangerous. But she could handle it, and keep her family together. 

Edward had been able to do it. He was the head of their household, with Zelda by his side, and kept his faith at the forefront of his mind. Until he met Diana. His ideas about the church began to divert from the strict reading of the scripture to a more liberal acceptance of equality between witches and warlocks. And it was during his term as High Priest that she admitted to her brother her most dangerous secret. She had never prayed to Satan, not once. 

Of course, in front of others she was the model devotee to Satan, mouthing the prayers, nodding along to sermons preached in Lucifer’s name, partaking in unholy communion, but in her own room, alone in the dark, she prayed only to Lilith.

As a girl she had learned of Lilith while reading the ancient texts when her father forgot to lock his office door, sneaking in and hiding under his desk, pouring over the stories of the first woman, internalizing the knowledge of the deity that created all witches.

And when she confessed to Edward that her faith had never been in Satan, that she was loyal to Lilith alone, he accepted her beliefs, as she had tried to welcome Diana into their family, only his transgression seemed much more improper than the choice of deity.

Zelda knew, above all else, that Mary would understand, she would accept that Zelda had other priorities, that her family had to come first, followed by her appearance to others as a devout and upright witch, devotee to the Church of Night and the Dark Lord. 

The front door opened and closed, followed by the sounds of someone running up the stairs.

Sabrina’s familiar footsteps stopped outside the bedroom door, and she burst in the door, Hilda not too far behind.

“Just wanted to say goodnight, Aunt Zee and thank you for coming on our field trip,” Sabrina kissed her on the cheek, then gave Hilda a peck as she was climbing into her own bed.

“Goodnight, dear. You go on to bed now. Tomorrow is a school day,” Zelda shooed her out the door, then leaned over and turned off the bedside light, pulling down her eye mask, knowing sleep wasn’t coming any time soon, and wishing Mary was still beside her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking this Biblical tie-in might be too much, but if you have Satan, you must have god. The basic rules of both churches seem similar enough, what with Hilda's ex-communication, the Antipope, priests and mass, so it made sense to me.
> 
> Greendale also seems like the kind of place where the Ten Commandments would be posted everywhere. I read this article once about how the makers of the movie "The Ten Commandments" gave small towns monuments to place in their courthouse squares as propaganda for the movie, so I could imagine Greendale accepting one of those.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda has dinner at Mary's home, and an accidental revelation changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say I know absolutely zero about spellcasting, so I went real simple here.

By the time she had seen to Ambrose’s new mechanized contraption in the basement, straightened out the mortuary paperwork Hilda had scattered all over their shared desk, and wrestled Vinegar Tom into the tub for his weekly bath, it was mid-afternoon. A bit of low key panic struck Zelda at the thought of being alone with Mary again in a few hours.

Deciding her best option was to focus on what she would wear, Zelda removed dress after dress from her closet, laying them all over the room, eliminating choice after choice in frustration. She was lighting her third cigarette, holding up a gold brocade jacket and scowling when Hilda bounced into the room.

“Uh, Zelds, you doing a bit of redecorating?” She continued over to her own bed where at least a dozen gowns of varying shades of navy and black had been tossed.

Furrowing her brow, Zelda threw down the cobalt blue velvet skirt she had been holding up.

“Please sister, I don’t have time for your incessant rambling.”

“Going somewhere tonight?” Hilda looked up expectantly.

Tapping her cigarette into an ashtray between their beds, Zelda started hanging the dresses back into the closet.

“I’ve been asked to dinner, yes.”

Hilda squealed with excitement. “You haven’t been out in so long. I’m so happy for you.”

“I go out. It’s not as if you’re around in the evenings to see me.”

Zelda cringed at how petulant she sounded; in truth, she did feel lonely with everyone so wrapped in their own lives, but she certainly didn’t need Hilda to know that.

“I know, and Dr. Cee and I do need to spend more time here. You’ve been bound to be lonely, what with Sabrina always with her friends now, and Ambrose keeping company with his paramours in the attic.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, picking up one item after another and throwing each down. 

“I’m only saying that I’m glad you’ve found someone too,” Hilda’s sincere eyes made Zelda’s hand twitch for her shovel or hammer, anything to wipe that pitying gaze off her bubbly face. 

To Zelda’s relief, Hilda finally seemed to sense her annoyance and made to leave, turning to say, “And, Zelds, that crimson lace dress always turns everyone’s head, so I’m sure that will get her attention.”

Zelda turned with a huff, then realizing Hilda was gone, she took the blood red dress and held it up, a pleased smile on her lips as she imagined how Mary might respond when she opened the door to her cottage later.

***********

Mary flung open the door, still in her apron and clothes from the school day, not expecting Zelda for another ten minutes, stunned speechless by the way the redhead was draped in the doorway, one arm on the doorframe, cigarette in hand, the other on her hip.

“Hello, Mary,” Zelda drawled, reaching down to gather her bag, and Mary’s eyes were drawn to the neckline of her dress as it draped lower. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Finding her tongue, Mary blurted out, “Y-you’re early. And I’m not nearly ready.” She stood aside as Zelda sauntered in. “But Zelda, you look…”

Looking back over her shoulder, Zelda purred, “Yes, Mary?”

Mary bit her lip, feeling slightly self-conscious.

“Let’s just say you knew what you were doing when you put that dress on,” Mary’s nervous laughter burst out of her, and Zelda felt a bit of pride at how easily she could affect Mary.

“Perhaps I did.” Zelda could no longer take the tension between the two, closing the distance and kissing Mary soundly, caressing her cheek as she pulled back.

Mary brought Zelda into her embrace, standing on her tiptoes to lay her head on Zelda’s shoulder, fervently enjoying the feel of their bodies together.

“I missed you today,” Mary’s voice was a breath in Zelda’s ear, and the redhead shuddered a bit as they parted.

“Can I help you with anything in the kitchen?” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Zelda pulled a bottle of white wine out of her bag. “Point me in the direction of your wine glasses.”

While Zelda poured them each a generous glassful, Mary went to her bedroom to change out of her school clothes, sliding on a black sweater and tweed skirt, leaving her legs and feet bare. 

Loosening the pins from her hair and shaking it out, Mary finger combed it to some semblance of order as she walked back towards the warmth of the living area.

She found Zelda curled on the couch, her shoes tossed aside, thumbing through the WICCA club’s newest novel,  _ 1984, _ sipping her wine.

‘’Have you read that one?” Mary asked as she walked through to the kitchen, running her fingers along the back of Zelda’s shoulders and neck as she passed, and Zelda leaned into her touch. 

Zelda followed her, perching on a kitchen chair as Mary took the roast chicken they were having out of the oven, finding the wine Zelda had poured, and taking Zelda’s cigarette, putting it to her mouth for a drag.

“No, but I must admit it sounds intriguing. Can you imagine the government keeping tabs on your every move?”  _ Much like the Dark Lord,  _ she thought.

“Well, with all that went on with Senator McCarthy, it feels quite prescient right now, although in my wildest dreams I could never imagine any elected official here having the ability to spy on such a large number of Americans at once.”

“True, true.” Zelda recalled the times when many Americans were accused of having communist sympathies, and lives being ruined by these allegations. 

And then she thought of her scripture reading the night before. 

_ I wonder if he knows I’m here, if he knows how I feel about Mary. _

“Although with advances in technology, who knows what will happen?” Mary looked at Zelda who had gone quiet, handing her back the cigarette. “Let’s not dwell on some gloomy forecast of the future. Tell me about your day.”

And Zelda paused in her musings of Satan and his minions, looking up at Mary with her sincere concern and attention only for Zelda, no hidden motivation or schemes behind her wide blue eyes, and Zelda knew she needed to protect this woman, to keep her safe and sound and free from any harm. 

“My day?” she blew smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Nothing of interest occurred. I’m sure yours was much more exciting what with the girls telling everyone of our adventure.”

Mary talked of her students, and Zelda sat back and watched her, how she became so animated when she spoke of their class discussions, how she spoke to them of current events, how they responded, respectfully, and Zelda was yet again amazed at this timid woman who could hold court with a group of high schoolers like it was nothing.

They settled at the small table by the fire, Zelda taking in her surroundings as she ate; she scanned the colorful stained glass windows, the numerous books filling shelves on every wall, to the cross above the mantle.

“I can’t bring myself to take it down.” Mary saw Zelda’s eyes linger on the wooden ornament above the fire. “Each time I think I’m ready to, it’s almost like I feel I’m disappointing someone. Isn’t that silly?”

“Your piety was important to you for so long I can imagine it is difficult to completely part with it,” Zelda agreed.

“But that’s just it, it was never important to me. It was almost a protection of sorts, a shield from a wrath I knew would come if I turned away. As if that wrath could still come even now after all these years. So there it stays.”

In that moment Zelda saw Mary in a new light, their lives so paralleled it seemed in their appearance of deeply held beliefs, but she had to ask, she had to know where Mary stood concerning the false god.

Taking a drink from her glass, Zelda poured more for herself before she could bring herself to ask the question burning in her mind.

“Mary, I’m curious, if your,” she paused, feeling that her phrasing of Mary’s belief could affect the answer she was given. “ _ religion _ isn’t relevant to your life, what exactly do you believe in? If you hold faith in anything, that is.”

“Let’s see, how to explain this, well,” Mary was thoughtful for a few moments, then she set down her fork and walked to a bookshelf, removing a large text and laying it on the table between their plates. She opened it to a dog eared page with an illustration of a forest, animals in a clearing together, surrounded by what appeared to be mystical creatures. “This is what I believed in as a child.” 

Mary looked at Zelda carefully as she spoke, still holding on to a fear of rejection, as if she thought Zelda would throw back her head and laugh at Mary and her admittance, but nothing of the sort occurred. 

“I saw things in the Greendale woods, things I couldn’t explain, although I never told anyone. They wouldn’t have believed me, and I had so few friends, I didn’t want to run off the few children that would talk to me. But I believed in magic. So I investigated Greendale’s history, learning of our own version of the witch trials and some strange goings-on in our township. I still love a good scare.” She said the last bit with a sardonic smile.

So wanting to ask Mary what she had seen, for their rituals in the woods were meant to be shielded from the mortals of the town, Zelda held her tongue. Trying her best to school her features into what she hoped was a gaze of nonchalance, Zelda looked up at Mary’s face, finding her still peering at the illustration, a sad smile on her lips.

“But then, I began learning about science and mathematics, the ways things were created and changed using sound, proven methods, things you can see, and I put away those childish beliefs. I went to college, and my mind was challenged by those who taught me how to think, not what to think. And my beliefs shifted again. I questioned everything. Which, I suppose, is where I am now. Open to theories and suggestions.”

_ Once again this woman has managed to amaze and surprise me,  _ Zelda thought, for she had never known of a mortal so open to anything outside the physical realm. 

She replaced the book and sat down, studying Zelda’s face as she did.

“And what about you, Zelda? What do you believe?”

Having been taught from an early age never, in any circumstance, to reveal themselves to mortals, Zelda knew she could not be completely upfront with Mary, for that would spell disaster to their coven, her family, and this budding relationship, but if Mary already knew of the Greendale witches....

Zelda stood, lighting a cigarette, walking towards the fire, staring into the flames as she answered Mary, weighing her words carefully.

“We have a faith, a sort of spiritualism as opposed to a religion.”

Mary could see Zelda’s ambivalence to this particular discussion, so she gathered their plates, walked into the kitchen, and began to straighten and put things away, giving Zelda time to gather her own thoughts. She heard Zelda walk in, sitting again in the kitchen chair behind her.

“I suppose I’ve always been very open minded as well. Traveling will do that to you. So many religions over our vast world, so many devout people.”

Mary nodded, but didn’t turn around, washing and putting their dishes on the side of the sink. As she finished, she leaned against the counter and sipped from her wine glass.

“I went away to college, but I’ve never traveled too far outside our area of the country. Tell me about the places you’ve been,” Mary demanded, pulling Zelda from the chair, back to the couch, Mary curling her legs under herself and resting her head on Zelda’s outstretched arm behind her.

_ An easy topic,  _ Zelda thought,  _ even though if she knew about me I wouldn’t feel I was walking on eggshells around her. Edward enlightened Diana and she didn’t run away, and she knew nothing of magic. Mary already believes. And for Satan’s sake, if she reacted badly I could always wipe her memory. _

So Zelda told Mary of a journey she’d taken to Japan, the bright lights of Tokyo, her hike up Mt. Fuji, eating sushi from a tiny restaurant in a train station, and Mary was transfixed, her eyes lighting up with each experience Zelda described.

Mary laid her head in Zelda’s lap as she talked, Zelda occasionally running her fingers through the brunette’s hair. Mary asked question after question, her curiosity getting the better of her.

When Zelda spoke of the Tokyo National Museum, Mary suddenly remembered the book Rosalind had given her that day, a thank you gift for taking them on the trip.

She fetched it from her school bag, grinning in excitement, explaining how Rosalind had known she would love it because of its topic: the history of the Metropolitan Museum. 

They set the large book between them, flipping through the beginning pages, Mary reading of the museum’s beginnings to it’s final location on 5th Avenue where they had visited only days before. They came to a large section of photographs from 1872 when the museum opened, with a large gathering of people crowded around a sarcophagus, several men proudly standing on either side of it.

Mary looked closely at the photo, down at the caption that named the men, then at the crowd.

“Zelda, that woman there, she looks like you,” Mary was pointing to a woman standing a bit off to the side from the men.

Leaning more closely, Zelda felt her heart drop to her stomach. 

Mary had risen to get a magnifying glass to see the photo more clearly, and Zelda’s mind raced. She could further blur the photo, making Mary unable to see it clearly, but she knew she’d be caught. 

Her mind raced. This wasn’t the manner in which she wanted to reveal herself to Mary, but it seemed fate had other ideas.

_ Perhaps I trust her with this knowledge, take a risk, see what happens. _

She heard Mary returning.

_ She’ll leave you, be terrified of you, hate you. _

_ No, she cares for you, and she so captivatingly showed you that she truly does believe in things beyond this earthly realm.  _

“Let’s have a closer look,” Mary was saying, and Zelda’s head was spinning, her heart pounding.

Peering at the picture through the glass, Mary hummed. “I suppose she just looks like you, maybe she’s a relative of yours. After all, this photo is from 1872, and she looks only a bit younger than you.” 

Laughing at the odd coincidence, Mary didn’t notice Zelda’s silence until she didn’t respond to turn the page.

“Zelda?” Mary asked. She took the redhead’s face in her hands and looked at her quizzically. “That  _ is _ you in the photograph, isn’t it?”

Zelda only nodded, closing her eyes, unable to take Mary’s reaction. But when Mary didn’t release her face, she looked up to see Mary’s most expectant gaze.

“What does this mean? That would make you over a hundred years old.” 

Zelda swallowed visibly. “Try three hundred years old.”

Her mouth working around words that wouldn’t escape, Mary moved the book out of their laps, turned her knees towards Zelda’s so she was facing her, and, taking Zelda’s hands, she soothingly rubbed her thumbs across the backs of them.

“Are the Spellmans witches?” Mary asked simply. “Because your family name is in the Greendale historical logs I’ve studied. And the recorders always had their suspicions, but could never prove anything. I know your family has owned that mortuary for generations, but, to be honest, I’ve always wondered if the rumors were true.”

“We’ve become quite skilled at hiding in plain sight. Blending in is one of our most imperative abilities,” Zelda couldn’t look at Mary, sure she’d find disbelief and horror on that dear face.

“Zelda, look at me.” Mary took Zelda’s chin and their eyes met, and Zelda furrowed her brow, for Mary’s face was lit up like a child at Christmas. “I-I can’t believe it. Never in my wildest imagination...”

Zelda sat back in surprise, for Mary seemed genuinely thrilled at the knowledge that she was involved with a witch. 

And this was a reaction she surely wasn’t prepared for, Mary’s happiness. 

_ Why aren’t you afraid, angry, at least a bit unsettled?  _ These thoughts raced through Zelda’s confused consciousness. 

And because her initial response to any and all emotion was an escape, she stood, her pretense being to reclaim the wine bottle which she found to be empty.

“Mary?” she asked, holding the empty container as a question.

Opening a small cabinet, Mary withdrew a whiskey bottle, rarely used, but she felt more necessitated at this moment, and Zelda’s face showed her appreciation.

They found themselves back in their places, and Mary dared lean into Zelda, finding they both needed some contact to continue this conversation.

Both women stared into their glasses, swirling the amber liquid, and Zelda let her other hand drop down to Mary’s side, pulling her just a bit closer, feeling Mary relax under her grip. 

_ I’m terrified Mary, utterly thrown by you; I want to hold on to you and push you away at the same time. You should run from me.  _

Zelda took a deep breath, let it blow out of her mouth slowly.

“Why does this revelation, this knowledge, this affirmation of rumors that have circulated please you so much?”

Mary ascertained that Zelda’s question wasn’t so much about the knowledge, but more about what the knowledge would do to Mary’s opinion of her, so she paused before she spoke, giving measure to her words.

“This may sound silly, but you being a witch is a confirmation to me of every belief I’ve ever held deeply. To know that magic is, in every sense, a reality and that reality is sitting before me.”

Looking up into the redhead’s stoic face, Mary saw her chin tremble slightly, so she decided to push a bit farther.

“I’m also very pleased that you’re sharing something with me, that you trust me enough to do so.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Mary, I couldn’t do that.”

“I’m sensing a ‘however’ hovering right now,” Mary sat up so she could look directly at Zelda’s face.

_ There’s the matter of who else you’ve told, your safety, the coven, my family…. _

“However,” Zelda paused and gave a pained chuckle. “This changes everything. I’ve never revealed myself like this to any other mortal.”

Raising an eyebrow, Mary scoffed at the term mortal.

“Is that who I am, a mortal? Remember, I’ve believed in who and what you are for so very long. Doesn’t that give me at least a bit of credibility?”

“Are you offended?” The redhead couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her. “You do understand that most humans shy away from who and what I am, don’t you?”

“Ah, Zelda,” Mary said softly. “Don’t you know I’m not like other people?”

And Zelda pulled Mary closer, whispering in her ear, “You certainly aren’t.” 

_ And, for Satan’s sake, I don’t know what I’d do without you now. _

  
  


They talked long into the night, for Mary had many more questions, and Zelda answered as many as she could. When she showed Mary how to conjure flame, lighting every candle in the room and causing the fire to roar back to life, the teacher was enraptured. 

The two of them watched the moon rise to its highest peak, and Mary began to wane, the fatigue of the day catching up to her.

“How did I not notice you hadn’t driven here?” Mary said as they stood outside in the chilly air, arms around each other. 

“You were too caught up in my charms to notice anything else, I do believe,” Zelda said in response, smirking against Mary’s lips as they kissed.

Mary moved her hands from where they rested on Zelda’s lower back even lower, and captured Zelda’s gasp in another kiss.

“That was it exactly. All my powers of observation disappeared at your arrival. You are quite the charmer, Zelda Spellman,” Mary’s comments were cut off as Zelda covered her mouth with her own, running her tongue along Mary’s lower lip and moaning as Mary’s tongue met hers. 

“Oh, my,” Mary sighed as they paused to come up for air, and Zelda was so endeared by her overwhelmed response.

“I’d like to do something before I leave for home if you approve,” Zelda backed away from Mary a bit as she prepared to leave.

Not certain of what Zelda meant, Mary only nodded.

Whispering an incantation, Zelda closed her eyes and imagined in her mind’s eye a protective net around Mary’s little cottage, adding an addendum to her spell that would only allow witches Mary gave permission passage into the house.

Opening her eyes, Mary was looking at her oddly.

“Just a blessing for sleep and well-being, that’s all.”

And Zelda pulled Mary to her once more, kissing her gently, embracing her and willing all the darkness to stay at bay from her Mary.

Teleporting away, she saw Mary’s eyes light up in joy as she disappeared.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I could not have Zelda trying to impress Mary and not wear that red lace dress because it was so stunning. Agreed? ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda had become a regular guest in Mary’s home for several weeks following their field trip, almost nightly, often for dinner, a moonlight walk, sitting with Mary while she gardened, just spending time together. And her fears about being with Mary had eased. In fact, she feared she was becoming complacent, so after finishing her paperwork in the mortuary, she thought to add another layer of security, if only in her own mind, around Mary. 

“Hilda!” Zelda shouted from the foot of the stairs. “Hilda!”

She heard a door slam from above and the tell tale footfalls of her sister.

“Yes, Zelda, what is it that has you in such a snit this afternoon?”

Hilda followed Zelda into the kitchen where she had set up a cutting board, mortar and pestle, and several small quilt patch bags scattered around. She noticed basil, caraway and mugwort leaves, as well as a few cinnamon sticks to the side.

“I cannot locate any verbena in your hodgepodge of greenery,” she pointed in the direction of the conservatory. “Honestly, sister, it’s a wonder you can find anything at all in that miasma.”

“Don’t you worry, verbena coming right up. I have my system, just as you have yours for the mortuary paperwork.”

Rolling her eyes and sighing, Zelda continued rolling and chopping the leaves, laying them flat to dry. 

“My system involves making sure Mr. Thompson’s death certificate gets filed at the courthouse, not lining the bottom of your spiders’ cage.”

Hilda indignantly stomped her foot, returning to Zelda’s side with the verbena in hand.

“That happened once. Are you never going to let me forget about it?”

“Not likely,” Zelda took the verbena and added it to the mix, chopping and laying out the rest of the herbs.

“You know we have dried herbs already. What are you making, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Waving her hand over the massive pile, the leaves instantly dried, shriveling and curling up, and Zelda gathered handfuls to place in the mortar.

“I do in fact mind you asking, and I didn’t want to deplete your supply of dried herbs when I could easily take care of them myself.”

“They just won’t be as potent now,” Hilda muttered.

Resisting the urge to toss the lot into the trash bin, Zelda wheeled on her sister, still holding the chopping knife.

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You are right, sister, and I’m sure you know by the ingredients exactly what I’m making. I’ll toss these in the compost pile if you’ll point me in the direction of your dried herbs.”

Hilda brought out the mix, laying the bottles along the edge of the cutting board, waiting for Zelda to return. She arranged the bags neatly so she could help with the preparation.

“All right, Hilda. Would you kindly use your kitchen gifts and help me prepare these charms?” Zelda approached the table, brushing her hands off as she picked up the pestle.

Wrinkling her nose, Hilda started spooning out level teaspoonfuls of each dried herb into the mortar, and Zelda ground them together.

“Does she know you mean to protect her like this? Ms. Wardwell?”

Flinching a bit at how easily Hilda read her purpose, Zelda looked away.

“No, she has no idea of the danger and I intend to keep it that way. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Zelda had become a regular guest in Mary’s home for several weeks following their field trip, almost nightly, often for dinner, a moonlight walk, sitting with Mary while she gardened, just spending time together. And her fears about being with Mary had eased. In fact, she feared she was becoming complacent, so after finishing her paperwork in the mortuary, she thought to add another layer of security, if only in her own mind, around Mary. 

“Do you truly think the Dark Lord means her harm? After all, you’ve only been seeing her these past few weeks, and she seems so private, surely she’s not spreading it all around.”

“You and I both know that our family’s standing in the Church of Night has become perilous, regardless of my behavior, but I don’t want to chance it. You know what happened to Edward and Diana.”

Hilda hummed at that, and began stuffing the herbs into the small bags, sealing them with a murmured spell.

“But, she does know…” Zelda’s voice trailed off as she looked into her sister’s eyes.

“Yeah, she does know what?” Hilda glanced up, realizing the meaning behind Zelda’s silence. “Oh,  _ oh,  _ so you told her we’re witches. That was fast, Zelds, I’ve never known you to trust anyone like this.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly shout it from the rooftop, she assumed, and I didn’t tell her otherwise.”

_ But I would protect her anyway _ , Zelda thought to herself.

Taking that moment to grab the charms, putting them in her bag, Zelda couldn’t miss the look that passed over her sister’s face, her hand to her mouth as she grinned. 

Zelda wanted to tell Hilda everything, to share about the trip, how she and Mary had so many commonalities, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Hilda would gush over it, demand to invite Mary to their house, and, worse yet, she would tell Sabrina. 

Trying and failing to hide her emotions she knew were shown all over her face, Zelda turned away quickly.

“You know, if you’re really truly scared or feeling….um, possibly some other way towards Ms. Wardwell you could talk to me, Zelda. A burden shared is a burden halved,” Hilda hesitantly said after a moment.

“Scared?” Zelda threw back over her shoulder. “If I’m going to spend time with Mary, in her home, I’m just enabling the same protections we have here. It’s as much for me as it is her.”

“So you’re saying you’re creating charms to drop in her pockets, and I’m guessing placing wards around her cottage because  _ she _ asked you to do it?”

Doubling back to the kitchen, Zelda stopped in the archway.

“What are you trying to get at, sister?”

“Um, uh, well,” Hilda knew that look and that it might earn her a trip to the Cain pit if she didn’t tread lightly. “I’ve never known you to go to such lengths for anyone, let alone a mortal, and I wondered what your intentions are with her, that’s all.”

Narrowing her eyes, Zelda lit a cigarette and inhaled, blowing the smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

“You just let me worry about that, Hildegard, and you take care of your plastic-fanged gigolo.”

“Will we see you at Black Mass tonight, sister?” Hilda ventured as Zelda walked away again.

“No, and I won’t be home tonight for dinner either,” Zelda continued as she opened the door under the stairs that lead to the basement. “And thank you for the help.”

  
  


**********

Eyeing the clock, Mary realized she had lost track of time while grading her students’ essays, as she tended to do when engrossed in her work. She quickly piled them into a stack, shoving them into her satchel and was almost home free when she heard Principal Hawthorne’s voice echoing down the hallway.

“Ah, Ms. Wardwell, just the woman I wanted to see.”

She faced away from him a minute longer, clenching her teeth, rolling her eyes and attempting to smile pleasantly as she finally pivoted in his direction.

“I-I was on my w-way out seeing as it is p-past time to go home.” She hated the way her voice shook when speaking to him, as if she were intimidated, the reality being quite the contrary, as she found him ill-equipped to manage his position as principal.

“I’ve just been meaning to tell you how intrigued I am about your field trip to New York, that is, the school board is quite interested in the trip. What was the nature of this venture?” His beady eyes repulsed her as he spoke.

“A-as I designated on the required forms, we attended a reading of one of the WICCA club’s book choices.” She had turned the forms in well in advance, in triplicate, and he had approved them, so this turn of events seemed off.

“And that book choice was….?” His open-ended query left no question as to why they were holding this conversation. The school board had not approved of the students’ reading material. 

“T-the trip only required one d-day of missed school, much less than when the football team misses days on end to attend out of town games.” Mary’s voice rose as she felt she had to defend herself.

He walked to her classroom door, opening it with his own key, heading directly to the shelves of books she kept at the back of the room. Plucking a copy of  _ Lolita _ from the shelf, he held it up as if he were a lawyer displaying condemning evidence to the jury during a criminal trial.

She had followed him, forcing herself to not shy away or give in to his tactics, surely meant to scare her. 

“Mr. Hawthorne, these are my books, my personal materials. And WICCA is an extracurricular activity, not a classroom assignment in which everyone must participate, so I’m not sure where you are going with this, this---” Her temper got the better of her for a moment as she motioned towards the book in his hand. “---Accusation you are attempting to make.”

“On the contrary. Ms. Wardwell,” He sneered at her, dragging out her name as if it were some form of slander. “I’m not attempting to accuse you of anything, only, be warned, the school board has its eyes on you and your little club now, and they will be watching very carefully.”

_ Ah, there it is, the threat he intended all along,  _ she thought.

Mary knew the day she had agreed to sponsor WICCA that this moment would possibly come, and she stood resolute in her convictions.

“I assure you that the scrutiny of the school board, you, or any other entity will not stop me from doing what is best for these girls. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She walked out of the classroom, leaving Principal Hawthorne standing there, throwing daggers at her retreating back.

It was only when she had gotten in her car that the full meaning of his warning occurred to her. If they were watching her, that would mean her relationship with Zelda would be under scrutiny by default. She and Zelda would need to be especially mindful, for people in Greendale tended to talk. 

But anger flashed through her at that, they had done nothing wrong beyond...what, what  _ had _ they done wrong? If talking, sharing meals, walking through the woods, reading, sharing stolen kisses, glances under hooded lids were erroneous, Mary supposed they could be convicted. She only knew of her own feelings towards Zelda, how they had ebbed and flowed, a constant current, a tide of emotion, of longing, of love. And, in the eyes of others, that was criminal. Nevertheless, she chose Zelda, and would continue to choose her, damn the school board, and anyone else who thought they had a say in how she lived her life.

Arriving home she prepared their meal, placed it in the oven, stretching her arms over her head, willing away the anxiety and stress she felt settle in her spine. Mary decided a bath would soothe her rattled nerves. 

  
  


Tapping lightly on the door, Zelda found it unlocked and let herself in, Mary’s house being quiet except for music playing from the back bedroom. Zelda could smell the pot roast Mary had promised to make, its scent wafting through the house.

Mary’s dark woolen coat hung by the door, her school bag and purse sat on the bench under the front window. Reaching into her own bag, Zelda removed the protective charms and dropped them, one by one, into zippered pockets in the bag, into a hidden compartment in Mary’s purse, and an inside pocket of the coat, all safely and unobtrusively away from observation. She would tuck the remaining few away in dark spaces she knew Mary wouldn’t find easily.

Satisfied she had done what she could to safeguard her, Zelda sought out Mary.

As she approached the bedroom, the symphony playing on the turntable swelled and drowned out her arrival, the splash from the bathroom alerting her to Mary’s location.

Slipping off her shoes, Zelda stood in the bathroom door, observing Mary in the low light, her hair piled atop her head haphazardly, face glistening with the steam of the bathwater, soaking in the milky water, humming along with the music until a gap in the pieces occurred.

It was then Zelda cleared her throat, but Mary wasn’t startled.

Languidly glancing in her direction, Mary lifted her lips in a lazy smile.

“Hello, darling, I’m almost finished here. You caught me unready for you yet again.”

Zelda was clearly affected by the sight before her. “Honestly, you seem like you wanted to be caught this way, and I can’t say I’m the least bit upset, ” Her voice came out lower than her normal cadence.

Softly laughing, Mary ran a cloth over her arms, letting the water run off them, splashing silver back into the bath, her knees bent and exposed, head resting on the side of the tub, looking very much the picture of repose.

Moving into the room, Zelda took the cloth from Mary’s hand, and Mary nodded, only a bit of bashfulness remained, having been replaced with the ease and openness she felt with Zelda.

And so Zelda knelt behind Mary, and dipped the cloth into the fragrant bathwater, reverently sweeping it across the nape of her neck, noting how Mary swayed gracefully into the light touch, a sigh escaping her lips, leaning forward to rest her body on her knees as Zelda washed her tanned back, her languorous gaze on a point in the distance. 

“You are so very beautiful, dearest,” Zelda murmured against Mary’s warm skin, and Mary whimpered imperceptibly at her words, giving Zelda better access to her neck as she reverently placed her lips at the juncture of Mary’s neck and shoulder.

Lovingly she kissed along the line of Mary’s collarbone, then back along the constellation of freckles across Mary’s shoulders, stopping to place a kiss at the nape of her neck, then continuing to lightly nip along the pale column until she reached the jawline. Mary’s breath caught as Zelda alternatively using her teeth and lips along the sharp edge of her jaw, she tilted her head back to capture her mouth, and Mary reached up to grasp the back of Zelda’s head, pulling her closer.

They parted, and Zelda watched carefully, wanting Mary to feel comfortable, and the trust she saw in Mary’s eyes emboldened her. 

Breathing heavily, she leaned back to give Zelda access to her chest, still hidden by the water.

Slowly, teasingly she lowered the cloth into the water, sweeping across the soft skin of her chest, drifting down over one breast, Mary gasping at the contact, then lightly moving to the other, and Mary arched into Zelda’s touch.

“Oh, Zelda, please,” Mary’s voice was strained, her eyes squeezed shut at the unfamiliar sensations rushing through her.

“Please what, sweet Mary?” Zelda gently teased.

Shaking her head, Mary couldn’t bring herself to ask for what she wanted, so she took Zelda’s hand, placing it on her breast again, holding it there, as if to reassure herself that she wanted this very thing.

And Zelda kissed her again as she gave Mary what she desired, catching the low moans that escaped her, finally turning Mary to face her, holding each side of her face, tenderly meeting her gaze. What she saw in Mary’s eyes gave her pause, for gone now was the frightened, inexperienced woman, replaced now by this creature who was staring at her like you do something precious, like you do something you love.

A terror gripped Zelda’s heart, a deeper fear than she had ever experienced for any punishment, hardship, cruelty, because giving away her heart was a new experience for her as well, and she knew now she had done just that. She loved Mary.

The water had grown cool by this point, and Zelda’s sleeves were soaked, so she stripped down to the lacy chemise she wore below her blouse and moved to the fire, needing a moment with her own thoughts.

Knowing Zelda as she did, Mary let her have her time alone, for, in truth, she needed to be by herself, for she felt somewhat altered after what had just passed between them. 

Mary stepped out of the tub, took her time getting dressed, her mind on what she had seen in Zelda’s eyes, a softness she had never before noticed, only for a moment before her cool, practiced gaze slid back into place. But Mary had seen it, felt it in the transient slip of her normal aloofness, and now, aside from hearing it spoken, she knew Zelda’s feelings for her. 

Her fiancé had never looked at her quite that way, in fact, no one ever had. But she had never experienced what she was feeling now, never imagined anyone could feel that same way for her. And instead of fear, instead of wanting to overanalyze, break down and tear apart every thought that coursed through her mind, she felt at peace, as if this were just the next step in a journey, a long awaited feeling that had finally arrived.

She found Zelda’s cigarettes and a lighter, slid into the spot next to the redhead before the fire, and Zelda curled into her side, staring into the fire as they shared a smoke. 

“You made a particularly terrible day much better,” Mary handed Zelda the cigarette as she poked at the fire, the sparks dancing in Zelda’s eyes as she turned in Mary’s direction, noticing how troubled the teacher’s gaze had become suddenly.

“Why, Mary, what happened at school?” She tapped the cigarette into the fire , pulling back to slide closer to the other woman.

“It’s Principal Hawthorne, I’ve told you of his dictatorial tendencies,” Mary paused as she put the cigarette to her lips, inhaling deeply.

“Shall I hex him? It’s always a terrible tragedy when dictators come to a bitter end,” Her serious face and narrowed eyes caused Mary to lightly chuckle, which relieved the both of them. 

“Better not do that, darling, people may talk.”

They both stood as the oven timer rang, Mary moving ahead to prepare things in the kitchen.

“He insinuated, well, he directly threatened rather, my choices of books for WICCA as inappropriate and,” She paused as she handed Zelda a plate, and they sat down at the table.

“As if that weren’t enough, but what else?” the redhead asked.

Taking a bite, Mary chewed slowly as she thought how to put into words what had transpired that afternoon. Not wanting to cause Zelda any worry, but also wanting to be honest nonetheless, she settled on repeating his words verbatim, and allowing the chips to fall from there.

“He intimated the school board would also be watching me, to use his words.”

“Watching you how exactly?” Zelda’s brow furrowed. “In and outside the classroom?”

Mary knew Zelda would hone in on the message in a similar fashion to how she herself had reacted. And she hoped that Zelda would be as unmoved in her feelings as she was by these idle threats.

Biting her lip, Mary nodded as she said, “He left me with a feeling that there was indeed a target on my back, metaphorically of course. That I should get back in line, maintain the status quo.”

“You may lose your position at Baxter High if you choose to continue hosting this club?”

“Possibly, but I don’t feel it’s come to that yet. He was warning me, and in his own misogynistic way, he was just passing along the message. The power lies with the school board ultimately. Perhaps best to lie low for a time, fly under the radar.”

Somehow Zelda knew Mary wasn’t telling the whole tale, as she averted Zelda’s eyes when she mentioned keeping a low profile, and she wondered if Mary was referring to them. They had been in Dr. Cerberus’s a few times, as Mary loved his milkshakes, and although Zelda was loath to admit it, she had become rather fond of the trash peddler and his little shop. And now she was wondering if they had been observed.  _ These mortals and their antiquated ideas about sexuality,  _ she thought to herself.

Zelda took Mary’s hand, and Mary stared at the two, fingers intertwined, and she followed the line of Zelda’s hand as it led up to her face.

Rolling her eyes in her own haughty manner, Zelda put the kibosh on Principal Hawthorne’s rude behavior.

“I’ve seen you in action as a teacher. That school can’t afford to lose you, and if they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

She only realized after she’d let the words escape her lips that they succinctly expressed how she felt about Mary, that she couldn’t afford to lose her, and that perhaps she didn’t deserve her as well, if only because of the perilous position she had placed them both in by selfishly pursuing this relationship. 

“If you need me to speak on your behalf, I can certainly…” she began, and Mary cut her off, shaking her head.

“No, no that’s not necessary. Knowing I have your support is enough.” Mary squeezed Zelda’s hand as she stood to refresh their wine.

Not returning directly to the table, she moved to stand before the fire, thinking that what she was about to do was the finalization of many conversations she had shared with Zelda, the free will Mary determined now she deserved, and the obstacle that had remained between the two of them. She hoped now that Zelda also found her worthy of the witch’s trust, not just in a fleeting moment, but at the deepest level.

“I’ve also made a decision for myself as well.” Mary reached above the mantel, tugging the cross down from above it, laying it on the table. 

Zelda noticed her confident manner, how she sat a bit taller, held her head a bit higher.

“My time of feeling guilty has gone on for far too long, truthfully the only person I need to worry about pleasing is me,” Mary absently fingered the wooden cross.

“Of course, Mary, your life is your own, to live in the way you choose, I’ve always believed that wholeheartedly. And guilt is a wasted emotion, for where does it take you? Nowhere good,” Zelda shook her head, while feeling a bit torn, for as she preached free will to Mary, she herself tried to mimic the appearance of true devotion to the Dark Lord while her heart followed another path. 

_ This is a different situation entirely. The false god would make Mary out to be a heretic for following her true nature, while Lucifer would have us be subservient as witches, answering only to a leader who would see us ground beneath his heel before we could truly exercise our free will. Mary can walk free, seek out a life of her own, without the constraints of her guilty conscience laid on her by years of religious piety. But I have no choices like that, no freedom I can claim. Perhaps that’s what Mary is saying, she wants to live truly, authentically, completely as who she is. And she deserves to do just that. _

The thoughts swirled through her head, blanketing her consciousness, and she was missing what Mary was saying in her confusion.

“....and I think I’d like to take some time, fully explore what this means for me. What do you think of that?”

_Take some time? What was she saying, did she not want to spend time with me anymore? And really, I couldn't blame her, after all, I can't even express to her the danger I've placed her in, perhaps she can sense my reticence._ Suddenly the room seemed to be getting smaller, and Zelda felt tears prick her eyes.

Mary sensed Zelda’s perplexity, and looked at her further with alarm when she saw her misty eyes.

“Zelda, what is it? Have I upset you?” Mary rose from her chair and knelt in front of Zelda, taking her hands, looking into her eyes and willing Zelda to unburden herself.

Shaking her head, Zelda found herself unable to speak for a moment, to pour out her heart as much as she wanted to do so, as much as she knew Mary would understand, but she truly felt Mary would ask her to leave if she told her everything. The danger she was putting Mary in weighed heavily on her, especially now as Mary was making every attempt to live out from under her own self-imposed encumbrances.

Two tears fell down her cheeks, and Mary caught them with her thumbs as she took Zelda’s face in her hands.

Finally Zelda was able to speak, and she covered Mary’s hands with her own. She couldn’t ask Mary to bear the weight of all her problems, it was too much to expect. 

“I’m not unhappy, on the contrary, I’m very proud of you and the decisions you’re making for yourself. This is a large undertaking. To see you become the best you can be is all I would want for you.”

“You can take much of the credit, love, for I couldn’t have felt brave enough to take what I want without you by my side, and I have no intention of letting you go. And I hope you feel the same way.”

Mary’s unfeigned expression told Zelda all she needed to know. She needed Zelda, wanted her to be there, and Zelda’s troubles would keep. When things were more steady and sure for Mary, perhaps then she could share her own burdens.

Lifting Mary by her elbows, Zelda brought their lips together and felt Mary relax against her, assured in the confidence that they both wanted this to continue, to be together.

When they parted, Zelda whispered, “Let’s go back to New York, my dear Mary. Finish the museum, take our time and enjoy the city without anyone else but us to please, what do you say?”

All but beaming, Mary kissed Zelda again.

“I adore that idea, and you.”

Zelda caressed her soft cheek, and the shadows that had gathered around them seemed to fade into the background, at least for now.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are the best readers. Thank you again for walking through this story with me. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not normally a sentimental person, or deeply empathetic for that matter, she sensed Mary’s discomfort and vulnerability rolling off of her in waves. Her normal response was to brush off negative emotions, deal with them in a glass of whiskey or a cigarette, but Mary needed reassurance, which was endearing and somewhat frightening simultaneously. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I needed more angst coupled with some sweetness.
> 
> I guess this is a filler, but we learn a bit more about the both of them as they travel to New York again.

Zelda set her valise by the front door, checking once more that she had indeed remembered the small box tucked away into the corner before carefully closing the latches, draping her fox stole over the handle, and marched into the kitchen, quickly pouring herself an espresso as she glanced at the clock.

The only sound came from its quiet ticking, Hilda and Sabrina having spent the night elsewhere, Ambrose presumably still sleeping, so she sat in the streaming sunlight, flipping through the latest edition of the Greendale Gazette, the quiet calming her as well as the nicotine she vigorously inhaled.

Her thoughts drifted, as they were prone to do these days, to Mary, their journey planned for later that morning, and their two days in New York, excitement bringing a smile to her face. 

It seemed everything was brighter lately. Sabrina had agreed to spend more time with Hilda, prepping potions, learning about herbology; taking up with Ambrose, researching their ancient rites and rituals, and with her, mastering her rather rusty Latin, reading together about their own powerful ancestry as she had done when she was a young girl. Hilda’s relationship with her sex demon slash faux vampire seemed to have reached a comfortable plateau for the pair, and whether or not she’d admit it, Zelda was pleased to see Hilda content after years of loneliness with only Zelda as her companion. Even Ambrose appeared to have finally settled into his extended house arrest, having met someone who was willing to spend their evenings locked away in that attic room, doing Satan only knew what. Perhaps things were finally on an upswing for the Spellman family.

These thoughts carried with them a sense of comfort, an ease and an ability to be able to enjoy her time with Mary, free of anxiety that disaster may strike in her absence, although she still remained somewhat vigilant.

Sneaking another glance at the clock, she jumped, as time had gotten away from her a bit. She quickly straightened up after herself, tugging down the jacket of her vintage suit, still finding herself unable to wipe what, to her, must be a silly schoolgirl grin off her face, finally giving up and accepting her fate, this happiness that still felt a bit foreign. 

Swathing herself in fox fur, she grasped the handle of her suitcase, pocketbook dangling from her forearm, focusing on the front doorway of Mary’s cottage, she reappeared there to Mary’s surprise as she sat on the couch, a smile of ebullience spreading across her face. She dropped a letter she had been reading, and it fluttered the floor.

Appraising her appearance, Zelda noticed Mary had adopted a more chic design in her choice of updo, and the addition of a more sophisticated pump to her shoe collection.

“You look stunning, Mary. One would think we were heading to some cultured destination today.”

“Thank you, darling. Oh, and you didn’t tell me we were traveling in such grand style,” Mary rose to greet the redhead, kissing her lightly, running her fingers softly down Zelda’s jawline, and Zelda turned her face toward the pressure of Mary’s digits, her eyes closing.

“Not the entire journey, mind you, I don’t think you’d prefer the motion sickness you’d encounter afterwards, but just as far as the Riverdale train station. How does that sound?”

Grinning, Mary stole over to the door, sliding her arms into her coat, adding a fringed scarf, returning to Zelda’s side who had shifted her belongings so she was able to take Mary’s hand in hers.

“All right, now, what do I do? Do we say some arcane rhyme? Tap our heels together?”

“No, darling, that only works when we’re coming home.”

“I was right all along, you are more of a Glinda than you let anyone know.” 

With a fond smile, Zelda recalled Sabrina’s strident affection for the tepid mortal film, begging to watch every time it was televised, Hilda always capitulating, settling in front of the television with a bowl of popcorn, humming along to Judy Garland’s signature vocalizations.

“Let that be our secret. I wouldn’t want to tarnish my sterling reputation as a heartless crone.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” 

Squeezing Mary’s hand, Zelda focused her energies on the field behind the train station, directing Mary to do the same. And everything began to swirl behind Mary’s tightly squinted eyes, she felt as if she were on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair, and her equilibrium screamed for mercy. She felt sure if she opened her lids, she’d see what resembled the inside of a tornado, but Zelda’s confident grasp and thumb running and down her palm grounded her somewhat as the ground rose up to meet her feet at last.

Looking about them, Zelda was relieved to have landed in a deserted area, as planned. Mary still clung to her hand, her eyes wide and bags on the ground, her free hand clutching her stomach. 

“Are you quite alright, Mary?”

“I’m thankful to be back on the earth, but the experience was completely unforgettable. You’ll have to teach me how you do that, love.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose as she laughed at Mary, picking up her small case and allowing Mary to get her bearings. They walked around the side of the station, just in time to board the waiting car. Having managed to secure seats in the observation car, they would be able to gaze at the foliage as it was changing with the season. Finding two seats in a corner, Mary went to fetch them each a coffee, and then the teacher settled in by the aisle, curling a leg under her as she held the steaming mug between her hands.

“Oh, you were going to be observed by the school board yesterday. How did that turn out?” Zelda remembered suddenly.

Mary’s gaze focused on the window for a moment, the movement of the trees, wildly colored in crimson and ochre, the changing from summer to autumn announcing itself in riotous glory. She felt she moved along with the changes of nature as she continued in her own journey, Zelda by her side, towards some destiny she was unsure of, but fully in control of just the same; her description of what had occurred the day before seemed another stuttering stop on this journey, and she saw the empathy seep into Zelda’s eyes as she described it.

“I believe it was fine, they left without comment, only to be followed by Principal Hawthorne who spent the majority of the afternoon sitting at my desk, rifling through my graded essays, the journal I keep to log my lesson plans, and my gradebook itself. He seems bent on finding something, though I’m not sure what.” Mary’s crisp retelling belied her fear, and Zelda longed to comfort her.

“Some evidence of your moral misconduct? Ridiculous. Have you failed any students out of spite? Certainly not. Have you padded grades of others for your own gain? Never. What he thinks he has on you is unfounded rumor. He’s a man, a misogynistic lout, and he seems to have aspirations higher than his station. And you must be the stepping stone to his rising up the administrative ladder. You’ve done nothing wrong, Mary.”

Mary’s eyes burned with righteous indignation, tightly gripping her coffee mug, and she kept her voice low, conscious of the ramifications of being overheard.

“I’m an enigma, Zelda, I fully comprehend that. This community has always ostracized me, I’ve never fully felt a part of it. Truthfully, I came back after college to care for my dying mother, and I stayed, mostly for my own comfort and because, well, because at least I knew how I was received in Greendale, the unknown being too overwhelming.”

Zelda could see Mary needed validation as she spoke, and wanted the warm absolution her hand would bring, but she didn’t dare, not for her own sake, because the opinion of these mortals meant nothing to her. She held herself back for Mary’s sake, for as much as she wanted to take Mary, hold her close and take away all of the pain and embarrassment she was suffering, they didn’t have that freedom or luxury in this crowded train car. But even as she poured out her heart, her back was straight, her head held high, and as Mary sustained Zelda’s gaze, with a sheen of tears watering her eyes, Zelda saw the strength there. And Mary would be fine, she had determined her own fate now.

“But now, now I’m not willing to bear the brunt of their small-mindedness, not any more; if the school board and Principal Hawthorne deem me unfit to continue in my position, then so be it. I can bear that, I can carry that, because I’m still that enigma, still the woman who lives on the outside of their world, not of it, just in it. As long as I have my house, my garden, my books, and…” Her low voice had drifted into whispering, as she looked desperately into Zelda’s eyes.

_ Have I ruined her life? What am I doing to her? Doesn’t she see she deserves so much more than to survive? What can I say to prop her up, if I give in completely, do what I want to do, take her as mine, she’s surely dead. As if I killed her myself.  _ Zelda’s thoughts were a rampage in her mind.

“It won’t come to all that, I’m sure. You’ve given them nothing to find fault with, their crusade will come to nothing and everything else will slide back into normalcy, you’ll see.”

A momentary flash of disappointment passed over Mary’s face, and Zelda knew she had not wanted the declaration Zelda had made, but Zelda could not bring herself to say more. The teacher glanced about the train car, the other passengers busy in their own conversations, not looking in their direction, so Mary felt bold, safe in their little corner. Placing her hand over the armrest their seats shared, she stroked Zelda’s hand.

“I won’t give you up, Zelda.” She felt confident as the words slipped from her lips, refusing to look anywhere but their hands, Zelda’s clasped into Mary’s now, her ring leaving an imprint on the pale flesh of Mary’s finger. And Zelda hoped this was enough to persuade Mary of her feelings.

“Tickets, please?” The conductor’s voice surprised them, jumping apart, jolting them back to reality, and they both handed him the paper slips as he punched them, returning them with a smile. “We’re right on schedule, ladies. We’ll be in New York within the hour. Enjoy the view.” He gave them a mock salute and kept on his rounds.

Appreciating his levity, Mary smiled sincerely, and as she turned back to see the fall foliage as it passed them, her eyes were only on Zelda, and she whispered, “My view is certainly beautiful.”

The moment lightened, they settled back against their seats, not wanting these dark thoughts to pervade their trip, their time alone. 

Her head turned toward the window, Zelda sighed, her nerves a bit calmer as she smoked the cigarette she had lit, passing the pack to Mary so she could do the same.

“I suppose since we are on our way now I could give you a few more details about our two day jaunt,” She turned back to see Mary’s interested gaze.

“Please, you’ve kept all of this under wraps and I’m dying of curiosity.”

“Because we both seemed to enjoy the amenities of our hotel from our earlier trip, and its location being ideal, that will be our first stop. I hope that’s to your liking.”

“Certainly, I think that’s an excellent choice. What other surprises do you have for me?”

“What if I said you’d have to wait and see, Mary?” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“You won’t give me at least a hint? I brought that shimmery gown I purchased on our last trip, won’t you tell me where you’re taking me that I would need such a fancy dress?”

“Needling me like a child,” Zelda rolled her eyes, her playful expression at odds with her stern tone of voice. “I promise you’ll enjoy it, and I’ll undoubtedly find it quite pleasurable to see you wearing that gown.”

Zelda drew out the syllables in her velvet, whiskey-hued voice and glanced over at Mary, who was so affected by it all. Heat had flooded Mary’s face at her words, and the brunette shifted a bit in her seat at the memory of Zelda’s gaze as she modeled the dress in the shop weeks ago. 

“Oh all right, I’ll take your word for it,” Mary said once she had gotten her voice under control. “And truthfully, I can’t wait to do  _ whatever _ it is you have planned for us.” 

Their eyes met after that, the flirtatious nature of their words having their desired effect, only to hear the announcement of their arrival at Grand Central Station.

After claiming their bags, they settled themselves into a taxi, heading to their hotel. Mary felt the driver’s eyes on her in the mirror as she smoothed her hair back into the confines of its chignon, adjusting the hem of the heathered green tweed jacket she wore, so she smiled faintly in his direction, which wasn’t lost on Zelda, who found Mary’s newfound confidence captivating.

Soon arriving at the hotel, they made their way to the top floor, revealing the first surprise Zelda had for Mary.

“The penthouse? Zelda, I don’t know what to say. This must have cost so much...”

“You let me worry about that. It is a beautiful room, I must admit.”

Zelda walked to the window, drawing open the curtain, staring out at the vast city below and around them; Mary moved to stand beside her, and Zelda decided that seeing her delighted expression was worth all the time and planning that had gone into the trip.

Looking at one another, Mary closed the distance between them, her eyes drifting shut as she met Zelda’s lips, hands sliding to the redhead’s hips, moving them together as they stood before the window, the mid-afternoon sun shining in the distance.

“I’ve wanted to do that for hours,” Mary said breathlessly, her heart rapidly beating, and Zelda leaned down to place her lips on the pounding pulse point exposed on Mary’s neck, her teeth nipping at it, then soothing the bite with a gentle lick of her tongue, repeating the process again and again. Mary gasped at the pressure, leaning her head back to give Zelda better access, her hands gripping Zelda’s hips closer, clasping the fabric in her fists.

“Beautiful, oh so beautiful,” Zelda ran her thumb over the now-smudged lipstick across Mary’s mouth, her crimson shade staining the pale pink in a tantalizing mix of the two of them. She pulled the collar of Mary’s jacket up a bit higher to hide the bruise forming on her neck. “I’m sorry, darling, but your neck is irresistible.”

Mary moved to the full length mirror, examining her neck, tracing her fingers over the spot Zelda had ravished, amazed and in wonderment. She found that she wasn’t embarrassed, on the contrary, she felt a bit of pride, shocked she could engender this passionate reaction in Zelda, and finding this same passion surging through her own body. She looked at herself closely, from the curls escaping the confine of her chignon, her flushed cheeks, eyes alight with fascination, her newly acquired outfit, styled to fit and accentuate her body, down to her sheer stockings and pumps. For the first time she felt no need to hide herself, cover her body to conceal how she looked, for her body felt alive. Perhaps she truly was attractive.

Joining her at the mirror, reapplying her lipstick and smoothing out her already perfect curls, Zelda observed Mary somewhat proudly tracing her fingers over her exposed passion mark, turning her head from side to side, looking at it from every angle, and the witch’s lips quirked into a half smile.

“What would the citizens of Greendale think now if they saw proper Ms. Wardwell with a hickey on her neck?” 

They both burst into laughter at the thought, but, in all seriousness, Mary’s eyes met Zelda’s. “Let them think what they will, I could truly care less.”

Zelda moved back to the window, her eyes staring at something in the distance.

“I remember New York City in 1922 so clearly, like it was yesterday. The Great War had ended and everyone had money burning a hole in their pockets. Harlem was the place to be then. We danced til dawn, and New York truly was the city that never sleeps. This was before Prohibition, before the Stock Market Crash, before the world came apart at the seams. What a sense of freedom, sexually, intellectually, without judgement for anyone, and what a grand time to be alive. Those are the times I wish you could have experienced.”

“Makes you wonder if we will ever feel that sense of liberty again, an ability to walk down the street as who we are instead of hiding. I certainly hope so, at least for those who come after us.”

Zelda nodded in agreement, and opened her valise, carefully removing the dress she planned to wear that evening, shaking out the wrinkles.

“Oh my,” Mary examined the dress, “Zelda, this is gorgeous, like it was made for you.”

“Honestly, it’s a throwback to my short lived flapper days. Hilda remade it, updated it, and I can’t say she did a poor job.”

Mary propped herself on the arm of a chair, covering her mouth and shaking her head at the image of Zelda in a drop waist dress, feathers in her hair, dancing the Charleston and listening out for police whistles that precipitated the raids that were so prevalent in those days.

“Why am I not surprised you spent time in speakeasies drinking bathtub gin?” 

“Of course I did! My brother was so angry with me every time I left, he wanted me to find a good husband and raise children, carry on our family’s legacy, but when I bobbed my hair he knew it was a lost cause.”

Zelda had to laugh at the memory of Edward catching her in the mirror with Hilda’s kitchen shears, locks of hair at her feet, his eyes aflame with fury. 

“Your brother, Sabrina’s father?”

“Yes, he was High Priest of our coven by that point, head of our family, and by rights one of his tasks was to find suitable marriages for his sisters, even after our father had tried and failed many times over.”

“I understand that completely. My father never could fathom my reticence to involve myself with the opposite sex, at least until Adam, and then he passed before Adam and I went our separate ways.”

“No one was ever good enough in my father’s eyes, at least that’s what he told us, Hilda and I, but I think now he meant the opposite. We weren’t properly worthy; I was too headstrong, which brought him much shame, and Hilda, well, she knew nothing of the world, she wanted to sit at our mother’s feet, listening to fairy tales, she wasn’t nearly strong enough to handle any of the men our father would have preferred for us. I’m glad now she has a kind man, one who seems to care for her.”

“And he was your High Priest? Your father?”

“He was, and his decisions were final. No one dared cross him. And when I wasn’t found to be satisfactory, I left, traveled the world, experienced life in my own way, developed my magical skills as well as becoming a highly sought after midwife, for childbirth is much more trying for a witch.”

Zelda laid the dress on the bed, forgetting she was holding it in the sharing of their mutual stories, she moved to stand before Mary, who sat enthralled, for Zelda had never opened herself so freely as she was doing now.

“I returned to Greendale when my brother became High Priest, to assist him, as he didn’t have a wife at the time. He was brilliant, and had such radical ideas of reforming the church, but he was unable to accomplish what he set out to do. He and his wife died in a plane crash when Sabrina was a few months old.”

_ Now is your chance, tell her of your fears, tell her what you believe of why he truly died, that the Dark Lord claimed him for reaching too high, being an Icarus, flying too close to the sun, for thinking he could have it all, a life in service to Lucifer and a life in the mortal world. Tell her of the danger. _

Yet again, Zelda fought herself, and couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring herself to ruin their time together, weighing down these moments with worry, but she resolved she would tell Mary when they were back in Greendale. She owed it to her.

Taking Mary’s face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs over the sharp plains of Mary’s cheeks, she spoke sincerely. “I never thought I would be so grateful to have returned home, even though I love Sabrina greatly, for all I felt to begin with was a loss of my freedom, but these last months have made me realize I don’t always have to exercise control in every situation. Perhaps people enter your life to show you something new, a way of living you’ve never considered.”

Leaning into Zelda’s touch, Mary murmured, “Indeed they do, if we’re lucky.”

They parted eventually, each of them unpacking their clothes, and as they passed one another they touched, a hand to another, an arm, a finger to the nape of a neck, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear, until they found themselves on the bed, lips finding each other, hands tangling in hair, until Zelda reluctantly pulled back. 

“As much as I would love to continue this, and, rest assured, we will,” Mary laughed gently at that, then Zelda continued. “But we have plans at 8, and the afternoon is moving quickly by.”

“Plans? However shall I know what to wear if I’m not aware of our destination?” Mary wheedled a bit, trying to pry some information from Zelda.

Rolling her eyes in mock frustration, Zelda pointed at the navy gown Mary had hung on the door of the closet. “Trying to be coy, dear? You’ll know exactly where we’re going when we arrive.”

“You should consider a career with the CIA, for you can certainly keep a secret.”

“I’m sure you have powers of persuasion, Mary, but they won’t work this time. My lips are sealed.”

Walking just behind Zelda as she made her way towards the mirror, pulling pins out of her hair as she did, the long dark locks falling down like a waterfall, she breathed in the redhead’s ear, “Perhaps we can talk more about those powers later,” and enjoyed the shudder her words produced.

They dressed in relative quiet, Mary occasionally humming a bit as she applied a spray of perfume to her wrists, moving lower to add a bit of fragrance to the pulse points along her body. She removed the dress from its protective bag, smoothing out the few creases in the fabric before she stepped into it, reaching back for the zipper.

Adjusting the bodice, tugging it up to a modest level, she looked in the mirror, trying and failing to reassure herself that she didn’t look ridiculous. She saw the graying hair at her roots, the tiny lines around her eyes and mouth, her once sharp jawline now blurred a bit, all of it together forcing a sob to catch in her throat.

Opening the bathroom door, Mary sighed, and Zelda glanced up to see her stricken face. She stood for a moment in the doorway, and her small voice laid out the lack of confidence she felt. “I look like a fool, an old fool.”

Aghast, Zelda approached her, turning her around so she could see her own reflection. “Well, that’s simply just not true. You look lovely, a waking dream really.”

“You don’t think it’s too much?” Mary gestured towards the neckline, now slid down a bit, leaving her more exposed than she was accustomed, even just for Zelda.

Not normally a sentimental person, or deeply empathetic for that matter, she sensed Mary’s discomfort and vulnerability rolling off of her in waves. Her normal response was to brush off negative emotions, deal with them in a glass of whiskey or a cigarette, but Mary needed reassurance, which was endearing and somewhat frightening simultaneously. 

“Would you like to know what I see?” Zelda’s voice was low as she stood directly behind Mary, invading her space a bit, whispering in her ear, the warmth of her words generating the reaction Zelda anticipated, goosebumps appearing on Mary’s neck and shoulders.

Mary nodded, eyes wide and focused on the mirror, Zelda hovering behind her, moving aside the heavy dark waves of silky hair, placing her lips on the nape of Mary’s neck, moving to the space behind her ear, causing a gasp to leave the brunette’s parted lips.

“I see an utterly stunning woman, made even more beautiful because she’s dressed for me, to spend the evening with me,” Zelda captured Mary’s earlobe in her mouth, tugging on it with her teeth, just enough to cause Mary to tilt her head, allowing full access as her hair fell out of the way. 

Zelda’s fingers trailed up the side of Mary’s neck, causing the brunette to shiver, pausing on the bruise she’d put there earlier, fading it lightly, but not completely, leaving Mary a reminder of how much she was desired and wanted.

After a moment, Mary’s breathing returned to almost normal, she stroked Zelda’s cheek. “Thank you, my darling, thank you.”

“No thanks needed. I’m only telling the truth, and I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it.”

Zelda still stood in her lacy slip, her dress on the bed, and she remembered the box in her valise. 

“Before you finish with your hair, I have something for you,” She ran her fingers down Mary’s arm as she moved to retrieve the small box.

“These belonged to my mother,” Zelda said as she handed it to Mary. “She had an incredible sense of style, classic in her own way.”

“Like her daughter,” Mary said as she slid the box open, revealing two silver hair combs, engraved with intricate designs, and lightly studded with stones. Taking one from its place, Mary held it up in the fading light of the day, the sunset through the window catching and brightening the stones.

“Zelda, they’re gorgeous, but I can’t take them. They’re a family heirloom, they should stay with you.”

“Nonsense, they’ll sit in a drawer collecting dust, and I just thought how lovely they would look alongside your dress. I’ll be hurt if you won’t take them.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, not at all. It’s such a generous gift.”

Mary brushed out her hair, gathering one side and holding it back with the comb that easily slid into place, then the other, then turning toward Zelda.

“They’re lovely, thank you so very much.” Mary turned this way and that, examining how they looked in her hair, how they sunk into the dark layers perfectly.

She returned to finish preparing herself to go out, and Zelda noticed her burgeoning confidence had returned, her eyes seemed brighter and more focused, realizing Mary wasn’t wearing her glasses.

“Are you planning to spend this night in a true blur, and not because of the romantic spell I’ve put you under?” Zelda chuckled at Mary’s raised eyebrow.

“No, that’s my surprise. I decided to try out these new contacts that have just come out. I wondered how long it would take for you to notice.”

“I can’t say I’m upset about being able to better see your eyes,” Zelda was buttoning the front of her dress as she leaned closer to examine Mary’s face. “Do you like them?”

“Heavens, yes. No glasses to slide down my nose, or get in the way when I want to get closer to, let’s say, kiss you.” Mary gave Zelda a peck on the lips to prove her point.

“Hilda’s skills as a seamstress are incomparable.” Mary took Zelda’s hand to twirl her around, the beading on the bottom of the gown shining in the light. Where the design had been originally a drop waist, Hilda had remade the cut, curving in to flatter Zelda’s waist, flaring a bit at the hip and ending at mid-calf with spectacular beading and sequins. Similar to Mary’s gown, it was supported by a crinoline underneath, giving it a fuller effect. The bodice was covered with a scattering of beads, and Zelda wore a pearl and diamond choker to top it all off. Mary looked on Zelda with joy, happiness, and love. “I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

They stood side by side, Zelda reapplying her already perfect makeup, Mary just adding enough to accent her best features, and the thought went through Mary’s mind that this was all she had ever wanted, ever desired, and never thought she would have. But she did.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write this trip all in one chapter, but the story has a mind of its own, and I'm okay with that. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door slid open, a portal to the stars now, Mary’s face showed the wonder and awe of the view before her, and Zelda decided she would do everything in her power to bring Mary the sense of joy she was experiencing now many times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly sorry for the delay in posting, my job has begun again now and I'm so busy!
> 
> Please forgive any misused musical or artistic terms. I did do some research, but I'm not a musician or an artist. :)
> 
> Also the rating here may be closer to an M than a T, so if that's not your thing you've been warned. ;)

Seated beneath a windowed portico, Mary watched as the lights of the Empire State Building blinked on under a blanket of stars, a panorama so delicately lovely she wondered if Zelda had spun it herself with her magic. She sipped her wine, the warmth of it slipping down her spine, enjoying the privacy and seclusion afforded them by the high booth and leafy plants intermingled among the few tables. Somewhere nearby a violin was playing softly, which capped off the romantic atmosphere perfectly.

Cigarette between her fingers, Zelda reclined a bit in their seat as she discreetly slid a bit closer to Mary. She inhaled, blowing the smoke narrowly between her lips, offering the cigarette to the brunette, and when taking it, she tapped it off in the ashtray on their small table, the smoke swirling around them. The French bistro had not disappointed, and now they were waiting for their shared dessert.

“Fancy another ride to the top tonight before we take in your final surprise of the day?” Zelda indicated the skyscraper, and Mary nodded, thrilled to take in the city from above again.

Their lemon tart arrived, but the waiter had only placed one spoon on the small plate as Mary had done the ordering. Zelda shrugged, a smile turning up the corner of her mouth, and they proceeded to share it, each taking their turn handling the silverware.

“This reminds me of our last trip, except it was Barbara on the receiving end of your shared dessert, while I fumed at the other table end. How utterly petty I was,” Zelda chuckled, lowering her head into her hand in mock disgrace.

“And I was so oblivious about it all until the bookshop, then it clicked. I felt so daft, but what a new experience that was for me,” Mary placed her hand over Zelda’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “You floored me, you know. I never expected in all my years to find someone like you, someone who would be interested in me, and see me the way that you do.”

Zelda hummed in response, tracing her fingers over the delicate bones of Mary’s wrist and for Mary that was answer enough, for she knew how closely Zelda held on to her feelings. Her admittance of emotion at all was a milestone of sorts.

After settling the bill, they made their way across the street, soon inside the elevator, shooting to the top, Mary’s hand sliding into Zelda’s silently as they left the earth behind.

The door slid open, a portal to the stars now, Mary’s face showed the wonder and awe of the view before her, and Zelda decided she would do everything in her power to bring Mary the sense of joy she was experiencing now many times over.

Making their way to the observation deck, coats pulled tightly against the cold wind, Mary went to the edge, and Zelda hesitated, preferring instead to light a cigarette and observe Mary, the backdrop of inky blackness and distant city lights like fireflies flickering around her. 

“Zelda, look,” Mary called to her, holding out her hand in invitation, then pointing to the Chrysler building as Zelda approached, its silver spire a beacon in their view. “It’s as if you cast a spell to create this vision.” Mary admired her pale face in the now rising moonlight, and she looked as something from mythology, a goddess from the heavens. She knew Zelda would find being compared to a celestial being quite amusing, but the stark black of her dress made her skin appear to luminesce, and Mary resisted running her fingers over her prominent cheekbones.

They stared out at the sky, the carpet of city lights spreading out beyond the edges of the river, as if they were attempting to memorize the moment, and Zelda took Mary’s arm, leaning closely to whisper in her ear.

“It’s time for your next surprise; a throwback, as it were.”

Mary looked at her in puzzlement, a curious smile covering her lips, following Zelda into the elevator, folding herself into the corner as she gripped the railing, and Zelda slid her hand inside Mary’s coat, wrapping it securely around her waist.

Inside the taxi, Zelda leaned up and discreetly shared their destination, a secretive gaze set on Mary as she settled back, and it was Mary’s turn to roll her eyes, thrilled though at the efforts Zelda was making to create this atmosphere of mystery.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you? Keeping me in suspense.”

“Well, of course, who wouldn’t love making you squirm in impatience? Your little brow all furrowed in consternation, longing to know where we were headed, when all you had to do is just wait for a few moments and then…” She gestured to their right, for they had arrived.

Mary clapped her hands together and held them to her face, beaming to see that they were parked before Lincoln Center, and they walked directly into the Philharmonic Hall, Zelda refusing to allow Mary a glance at the program. As they found their seats, the orchestra lights dimmed, once, twice, and the conductor came to bow to the audience, giving the signal for the violins to begin. 

The music swelled, then dropped off, starting again, the Prelude to Tristan und Isolde filling the hall, and Mary looked at Zelda with tears on her cheeks, their twin tracks making their way down her face, for she was overcome with emotion. Glancing about them in the near pitch darkness, she took Zelda’s hand. Wiping away her tears, she leaned over, and whispered a quiet thank you as she let herself get lost in the music.

Zelda let herself get lost as well, but in only Mary, in her inimitable way of carrying herself, in how she now expressed lightness in herself, an acceptance, a freedom; and if it was possible, Zelda now found that she was even more drawn to her side, attracted to who she had become and was still becoming. 

When she felt particularly moved, the teacher closed her eyes, her hand in Zelda’s gripped tightly, as if the redhead was her foothold on earth, for she allowed herself to drift along with each piece, each suite, conceding her consciousness to the rhythms, all becoming part of her pleasure and enjoyment.

All too soon the lights came up as the program ended, Mary still standing from the ovation, her hands clasped in front of her, glancing over at Zelda, her eyes alight with wonder.

People had begun filing out all around them, so they began tugging on their coats, Zelda holding Mary’s sleeves so she could slide into them easily, then Mary doing the same. 

“I’m not sure I can ever thank you enough, Wagner isn’t for everyone, and you’ve surely outdone yourself with this surprise. I told you I’d snuck off to New York to hear this very libretto, Zelda. And you _remembered_ that?” Deeply touched, Mary’s incredulous voice shook as she spoke.

Zelda, anxious to downplay the profundity Mary was attributing to her choice of entertainment, not willing to profess her feelings to Mary yet, took a flippant tone.

“Oh, it just happened to be playing when I made these plans. A happy coincidence.” 

Never would Mary understand Zelda’s constant efforts to devalue every kindness she freely gave, the brunette stared pointedly as she heard Zelda’s glib reply.

“Don’t be coy, Zelda. Just admit you’re an old romantic and be done with it.”

Placing a hand over her chest in mock surrender, Zelda put on her best shocked expression as they walked down the aisle.

“Why, I suppose I’m guilty as charged, if only for now. I suppose you’d better think of a proper punishment for me, dear Mary.”

Stepping into their taxi, Mary leaned over and whispered her response.

“I can think of a few ways you can make penance, sweet Zelda.” 

**********

Upon reaching the hotel, they strolled through the lobby, and Mary laid her hand on Zelda’s arm.

“Let’s have a drink; let me watch all those men try to get your attention again, only to have them see you return to my side,” Mary’s audaciousness brought a sly grin to Zelda’s stoic face, and she nodded in agreement.

Draping her coat behind her chair, Zelda headed to the bar, and her heated gaze had Mary flushed as she returned a few moments later, their hands touching briefly as she handed off Mary’s drink and sat across from her.

The lights were dim in the section of the bar Mary had chosen, and a small dance floor had been set up nearby. Soft sounds of Nat King Cole drifted over from the few couples swaying together, the song seeming to match their mood precisely.

_The very thought of you,_

_And I forget to do,_

_The little ordinary things_

_That everyone ought to do._

Zelda slid her stockinged foot along the side of Mary’s slim calf, hearing her breath catch, grinning to herself as she affected the brunette so effortlessly.

“Did you enjoy our evening? I hope _everything_ was to your liking,” Zelda continued her masterful torture, teasing the back of Mary’s knee in the near darkness of their booth. “Breathe, dearest. You did say I owed you a bit of penance. I’m only paying you back.”

Shooting Zelda a dark-eyed look, Mary only moved slightly to allow Zelda more access. 

“I can certainly say that you’ve gone out of your way to make this evening quite pleasurable; I’ll never forget it.”

_The mere idea of you,_

_The longing here for you..._

_You'll never know how slow the moments go_

_'Til I'm near to you._

The song continued, and Mary looked covetously at the dancers.

“You know, I’ve never done that. Danced with someone the way they are, felt someone touch me like that.”

“We will have to remedy that someday, but for now you can know that I would if we could. You deserve that, to have that freedom, that luxury. Not to be with someone who...” Zelda looked away for a moment, a sadness overtaking her.

“What? No, no, none of that from you. I don’t need public declarations, dancing, no. Those things are so miniscule, petty. What I need is you, Zelda.”

She reached across the table to take Zelda’s hand, sharing a brief moment of reassurance until the mood seemed to return.

“Do you know I find myself drifting off during the day, thinking of you, what you might be doing in that moment, wondering if you are thinking of me. My thoughts are always filled with you.” 

Zelda nodded her head, “You are so often in my ponderings too, dearest. Hilda has even caught me daydreaming once or twice. I swear she’ll never let me hear the end of it.” 

Chuckling together, they leaned back and finished their drinks, and Zelda resumed her exploration of Mary’s leg under the table, her touches teasing and light.

“I suppose we should go upstairs now.” Her raspy voice low, Mary could feel the longing in it, and it brought a heat to life in her, a need to feel Zelda up close. 

The walk to the elevator seemed a cross-continent journey, and when the doors closed, leaving them alone, Zelda’s arms wrapped around Mary, her warmth stoking the flames that grew within each of them.

  
  


As Zelda placed the key in the door, she felt Mary behind her, a kind of nervous anxiety pouring off of her in waves, and she waited until they were safely inside to take the woman into her arms again, holding her until she relaxed, and Mary did not back away, her body flush with Zelda’s.

Mary’s hair brushed against the redhead’s bare arms as she held on, their breathing almost synchronous, and Zelda pulled back, her hands clasped behind Mary. 

“I wanted to..” Zelda began but Mary interrupted with a plea of her own.

“Dance with me, hold me for a moment, I-I just need…”

And Zelda cut her off with a kiss, her soft lips on Mary’s, the answer Mary needed.

They swayed together, each remembering the tune from the bar, not needing anything else, not in this moment. Feeling the silky weight of Zelda’s hair cascading down her back, Mary ran her fingers through it, then she reached up to bring Zelda’s mouth down to hers, and she sighed, a sound Zelda knew she wanted to spend a lifetime hearing.

Only parting to breathe, lips meeting over and over, Zelda’s hands wandered down Mary’s arms, her waist and hips, holding her ever closer until they found themselves backed against the bed.

Looking into Zelda’s eyes, Mary boldly reached behind her, suddenly needing to feel Zelda’s skin, to remove the layer of fabric impeding her desires, intent on locating the hidden zipper in the inky black of her dress, and she kissed Zelda desperately as she drew the zipper down, the pads of her fingers lightly grazing the soft skin of Zelda’s back causing the redhead to shiver. Mary’s eyes drifted lower as the dress fell away, leaving Zelda in only her silken slip. 

“Look at you, my beautiful Zelda.” Mary’s voice came out as more of a purr.

Stepping out of her dress as it pooled on the floor, Zelda was resplendent to Mary’s hooded gaze. She stood back a moment, admiring the woman in front of her, a flush gracing Zelda’s cheeks under Mary’s scrutiny.

Caressing Zelda’s cheek, Mary let her fingers trail down Zelda’s neck until she gasped, and then under the strap of her filmy slip, pushing it down her shoulder and further until it fell like the dress, pooling onto the floor, and Zelda stood before her, a vision in lace.

Brushing back the thick waves of Mary’s hair, Zelda settled her lips on the tensed muscles of Mary’s neck, turning her around as she continued the path, kissing and lightly nipping her way down the nape, the fine bones of her spine, until she reached the zipper of her dress. Gently taking Mary’s chin and turning her face, she asked for permission, the brunette’s nod a willing response, and she lowered it until her dress lay next to Zelda’s on the floor. 

Mouth going dry, Zelda beheld Mary, her eyes taking in the black satin corset down to the garters that held her sheer stockings.

Mary tried to smirk at Zelda’s reaction, trying to respond in a carefree way, but her nerves got the better of her.

When Zelda still hadn’t spoken after a moment, her gaze gone dark, Mary began to worry.

“Is it...do I...did I do something wrong?” 

“Darling, no,” Zelda cupped her cheek and rubbed the pad of her thumb over the contours. “I never expected...you did this for me?”

“Well, yes, of course,” Mary was almost speechless.

A softness grew in Zelda’s eyes, and her voice trembled as she spoke.

“Why, you’re simply breathtaking.”

Zelda leaned closer then, kissing Mary gently, and they came together as before, hands covering the other’s body, until Zelda guided Mary to lay on their bed, her lips resuming their path down Mary’s neck until she reached the lacy top of the corset, running her fingers under the edge. A whimper escaped Mary, and Zelda began to unhook each clasp, and with each new revelation, her lips met softly freckled skin, until she reached the last hook, and the garment opened. 

Her eyes closed in expectation, Mary held her breath, the pulse point in her neck pounding, until she felt Zelda’s warm lips on hers again and she relaxed, moaning into Zelda’s mouth, her body moving of its own accord.

Mary felt Zelda’s soft hair brush her naked breasts, and she felt more alive, more aware, more decadent as Zelda worshipped her with her mouth, the gasps and moans constantly escaping Mary as she moved toward something, a tension building rapidly in her body. Zelda moved lower still, sliding aside her remaining bit of lace, and Mary knew she needed more, wanted more, waves of pleasure washing over her.

And suddenly the pressure unfurled, like warm waves undulating through her, and she found one hand had made its way into Zelda’s hair, pulling as the feelings had peaked. Her other hand was clasped in Zelda’s, each finger linked, and she squeezed that one, bringing it to her lips, reverently kissing each finger.

Crawling back up to Mary’s side, she stroked her soft cheek, those blue eyes full of adoration, and Zelda held her to her chest, Mary’s face flushed, still panting from the experience and emotion.

They lay like that for what seemed hours, each thinking the other had fallen asleep, their breathing evened out and slow. Zelda turned away from Mary, settling back into her chest, and Mary buried her face in Zelda’s neck, taking in the scent of her hair, her skin.

Sometime during the night a blanket had been draped over the two, perhaps by magic, or so Mary thought as she awoke again to the bright sunshine peeking through a crack in the curtains.

Her peaceful dozing face, one corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile, Zelda was a vision with kiss swollen lips, wild red hair spread out over the pillow, and Mary lifted up on her elbow to look down at the scene in front of her.

_One kiss,_ thought Mary, _and I’ll let her sleep._

Leaning down, she pressed her lips to Zelda’s, both still so warm from the coziness of the bed, and Zelda grinned under her kiss, pulling Mary closer.

“Oh, darling, I wanted to let you sleep; I didn’t want to wake you.”

“We can sleep when we’re home, Mary. I don’t want to waste a moment with you.”

Mary pushed Zelda down onto the pillows, lowering her lips to Zelda’s collarbone, kissing at first, then getting bolder, using her teeth lightly, hearing Zelda gasp in pleasure, then doing it again as she made her way across Zelda’s chest and neck until she reached the edge of the lacy bra Zelda still wore.

Rolling her over to unclasp it, Mary lightly nipped Zelda’s exposed shoulder which had presented itself so enticingly. The moan that escaped Zelda at that emboldened Mary further, pulling off the bra and tossing it aside.

She rose up, her elbows on either side of Zelda, looking down at her like the beauty she was, bravely reaching forward to feel the weight of her breasts, the softness, the texture, learning all of the places that earned a groan or hiss, retracing them over and over until Zelda could no longer take the pleasure overwhelming her.

Her voice like leaves on a fall day, rich and textured, Zelda slipped on Mary’s name as it escaped her lips, a plea, a prayer, an urgency.

Her fingers moved lower, caressing tender skin from her ribs to her hips, reaching down to knees which moved apart as she approached, trailing higher still on inner thighs, reaching to kiss Zelda as she found her destination, removing the silky lace that remained, Zelda’s breathing increasing as she discovered yet again what brought pleasure, repeating it until Zelda was grasping her arm, calling out her name on a long exhale, and settling back, pulling Mary to her side.

Drifting back to that land between sleep and wakefulness, the dozing dream world, Mary fully opened her eyes again to see the sun had moved much higher in the sky, and she slipped from the bed, a pleasant soreness stretching over her limbs. She realized she was humming as she quickly showered, something she never did, but it felt right this morning.

“Mary?” She heard Zelda’s sleepy voice and poked her head out to look.

Zelda was already dressed, hair perfectly curling on her shoulders, high chiffon collar on her dress stiffly in place, makeup flawless.

“How did you?...” Mary pointed to her, finger tracing the air in the shape of her body.

“Honestly, darling. What a question,” Zelda rolled her eyes, turning back to laugh as the realization hit Mary.

Soon Mary had gotten herself prepared for the day, wearing a smart leather coat over her sweater and skirt, donning her heels as Zelda checked herself in the mirror. 

“I’m glad I brought this dress, the way you marked me I needed it today,” The feral smile that crossed Zelda’s face was not unnoticed, and Mary pulled her into a kiss, deepening it when she heard a moan escape from the redhead.

“And I’ll do it again as long as you’ll let me,” Mary whispered as they parted for air.

Their only agenda was the museum, finishing the tour they had begun on the field trip, so they walked at their leisure, stopping at a café for an espresso, people watching, grateful for the quiet time together. 

Finally making their way to the museum, deciding not to follow the normal traffic pattern as it was Sunday and quite crowded, they started in a quiet corner far from the entrance, and Zelda left Mary before a Monet as she drifted into the next attached room.

Finding herself before a Picasso, she sat, lost in her own memories, and Mary found her there before the painting of Gertrude Stein, her mind obviously in another time and place. 

“Gertrude Stein,” Mary finally said, a question and a statement.

“Hmm,” Zelda leaned back, her arm behind Mary on the bench. “Yes, I attended a salon at her home in Paris once.”

Mary looked on with a bit of admiration at that, for surely that meant Zelda had rubbed elbows with Hemingway and Picasso, but she held a secret in her eyes.

“I know you must think I’ve met great figures in art and literature if I’d spent time there, but truthfully, as I sit here, I can’t recall much. She had a vast collection of artwork, and that’s what drew me there. But it was also around the same time that I discovered the wondrous, life-giving properties of absinthe, and, so you see, I don’t actually remember much more than a blur,” Mary hid her face behind her hand, laughing at Zelda’s most uncharacteristic admittance. “Please don’t ever mention that to Sabrina, she has it in her mind that I’ve always been quite staid and responsible.” 

“Oh, mum’s the word, my dear. If you ever do recall anything, such as being an artist’s model or the muse for some heroine in a Hemingway novel, please do tell.”

“I promise you’ll be the first to know,” Zelda patted Mary’s hand and they stood to continue their tour.

Taking note that Mary gravitated to the softer paintings, works by Van Gogh and Monet, Zelda thought of the grounds of Versailles, English gardens, and traversing the canals of Venice in a gondola, and it gave her ideas for future artistic travels, for Mary’s joy and pleasure was imperative to her.

All too soon Mary noticed that their time had slipped away, for their train bound for Riverdale was departing soon. They left for the hotel, and headed straight for Grand Central, their taxi driver promising he’d get them there quickly.

Before boarding the train, Mary glanced around at the station; its majestic ceilings and cacophonous lobby such a memorable representation of New York, and she smiled sadly at Zelda.

“I hate that our trip is ending,” she mentioned as they found their seats. “But for you and me, I feel like we’ve only begun.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, that ends our tale for Mary and Zelda, ending where they began. 
> 
> The song I've referred to is Nat King Cole's "The Very Thought of You"  
> [Nat King Cole' sThe Very Thought of You](https://youtu.be/HcRQiNHrsoQ)
> 
> I have a second part to this story, and will post that soon. 
> 
> Thank you again for loving on this pic and this OTP with me. They are the sweetest and they've truly helped me survive this pandemic with most of my sanity intact.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you think!


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